Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
The Move,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
Brass Construction,
The Tremeloes,
The Monks,
KRS-One,
Henry Cow,
The Moody Blues,
Maurizio,
Robert Görl,
Anthony Braxton,
Sarah Menescal,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Womack,
John Foxx,
Bush Tetras,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Technova,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
Connie Case,
X-Ray Spex,
Roger Hodgson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Parrish,
Easy Going,
Khruangbin,
The Modern Lovers,
Excepter,
John Cale,
Derrick May,
Severed Heads,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxy Music,
Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Basic Channel,
The Doors,
Fela Kuti,
Royal Trux,
Grey Daturas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter & Gordon,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
Country Teasers,
Flash Fearless,
Youth Brigade,
Lyres,
DNA,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Iggy Pop,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.