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 Kiribati and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 D'Angelo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs 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?
The Cowsills,
New Age Steppers,
Das Ding,
OOIOO,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Banda Bassotti,
Groovy Waters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pierre Henry,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mission of Burma,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grey Daturas,
Crime,
The Skatalites,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erasure,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Young Rascals,
Letta Mbulu,
The Tremeloes,
The Raincoats,
Rapeman,
Morten Harket,
Dave Gahan,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Sonics,
EPMD,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
UT,
The Motions,
Audionom,
Soul II Soul,
Eden Ahbez,
The Happenings,
Tom Boy,
The Zeros,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Skaos,
Sparks,
U.S. Maple,
E-Dancer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.