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 Morocco and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar 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 Barry Ungar to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
A Certain Ratio,
the Sonics,
Second Layer,
X-102,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
Laurel Aitken,
Lucky Dragons,
Guru Guru,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Little Man,
Roxy Music,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Swans,
La Düsseldorf,
Porter Ricks,
Severed Heads,
Thompson Twins,
Harry Pussy,
Absolute Body Control,
Model 500,
Country Teasers,
John Lydon,
The Last Poets,
Underground Resistance,
Ohio Players,
Sam Rivers,
Khruangbin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
Colin Newman,
Eli Mardock,
The Cowsills,
Gichy Dan,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scott Walker,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alton Ellis,
Deakin,
The Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tres Demented,
cv313,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dirtbombs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gap Band,
Wire,
Spandau Ballet,
Ossler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Symarip,
Black Sheep,
Metal Thangz,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.