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 East Timor and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Symarip to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
Fugazi,
Nirvana,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tommy Roe,
B.T. Express,
Lalann,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
Hardrive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
AZ,
Joyce Sims,
Trumans Water,
Josef K,
Cal Tjader,
The Modern Lovers,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythm & Sound,
FM Einheit,
Buzzcocks,
Fela Kuti,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
Donald Byrd,
Erykah Badu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Al Stewart,
Whodini,
Mars,
Lakeside,
Suburban Knight,
Fluxion,
The Real Kids,
the Sonics,
Basic Channel,
Alphaville,
Althea and Donna,
James White and The Blacks,
Moebius,
Swans,
Nas,
The Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
Iggy Pop,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Smooth,
Lyres,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Infiniti,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.