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 Croatia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Sun Ra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
The Martian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dawn Penn,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Basic Channel,
La Düsseldorf,
Groovy Waters,
Bootsy Collins,
Intrusion,
The Golliwogs,
Neu!,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
EPMD,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Misunderstood,
Cecil Taylor,
Connie Case,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
Kerrie Biddell,
Accadde A,
The Move,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harmonia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Agent Orange,
T. Rex,
Simply Red,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
World's Most,
Country Teasers,
Theoretical Girls,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
AZ,
Flipper,
Freddie Wadling,
Suicide,
Funky Four + One,
ABBA,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric Dolphy,
Whodini,
Drexciya,
The Pop Group,
Schoolly D,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.