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 Bhutan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Junior Murvin to the dance 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Magma,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cowsills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
Television Personalities,
Stetsasonic,
Schoolly D,
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maurizio,
The Associates,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Fad Gadget,
Jawbox,
Rotary Connection,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fall,
Intrusion,
Whodini,
Pere Ubu,
Royal Trux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
This Heat,
Morten Harket,
The Five Americans,
Boz Scaggs,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
E-Dancer,
Sugar Minott,
Eric Copeland,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fugazi,
CMW,
Jesper Dahlback,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anthony Braxton,
Hasil Adkins,
X-102,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Iggy Pop,
Sound Behaviour,
Stereo Dub,
The J.B.'s,
Dennis Brown,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.