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 Malta 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Neil Young to the grime 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Saccharine Trust,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Durutti Column,
John Cale,
Average White Band,
Sandy B,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skaos,
The Gun Club,
Stetsasonic,
Deakin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marine Girls,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eli Mardock,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
The Pop Group,
Ice-T,
David Axelrod,
Faraquet,
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Rundgren,
Ludus,
Fad Gadget,
Althea and Donna,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
Royal Trux,
Colin Newman,
June of 44,
John Coltrane,
T. Rex,
Agitation Free,
Hardrive,
Dave Gahan,
The Move,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sparks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fortunes,
Lakeside,
Au Pairs,
LL Cool J,
Bluetip,
Cecil Taylor,
Brass Construction,
Main Source,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.