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 Suriname and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ 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 Black Pus to the funk 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
The Leaves,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
The Knickerbockers,
Inner City,
Wire,
the Fania All-Stars,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
UT,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Juan Atkins,
The Fall,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-102,
Flash Fearless,
Ultra Naté,
Jawbox,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Warsaw,
Erykah Badu,
Severed Heads,
Morten Harket,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare,
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Adolescents,
New Order,
Accadde A,
The Vogues,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Angels of Light,
Desert Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Loose Ends,
The Move,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Procol Harum,
JFA,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.