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 Samoa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Moebius to the rock 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers,
Kas Product,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terry Callier,
One Last Wish,
Pussy Galore,
Oneida,
Byron Stingily,
Steve Hackett,
Fluxion,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
JFA,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gap Band,
Qualms,
The Index,
The Wake,
Mad Mike,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rites of Spring,
Black Pus,
Sixth Finger,
UT,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
Archie Shepp,
Lee Hazlewood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Moon,
Technova,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Accadde A,
Country Teasers,
AZ,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
H. Thieme,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cluster,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funky Four + One,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Tubeway Army,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.