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 Kosovo and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Pet Shop Boys 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Delta 5,
Los Fastidios,
cv313,
Sugar Minott,
The Cowsills,
R.M.O.,
Bluetip,
Bad Manners,
Thompson Twins,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monks,
Tubeway Army,
Sound Behaviour,
the Germs,
The Smiths,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Essential Logic,
Au Pairs,
U.S. Maple,
Funky Four + One,
Severed Heads,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Soulsonic Force,
Newcleus,
Wally Richardson,
The Wake,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pagans,
Mad Mike,
Rites of Spring,
Sparks,
Dual Sessions,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cybotron,
Andrew Hill,
The Barracudas,
H. Thieme,
Deadbeat,
Deakin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ten City,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacques Brel,
Drexciya,
Chris & Cosey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Sheep,
Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Loose Ends,
Harmonia,
Lindisfarne,
Pierre Henry,
Joyce Sims,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.