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 Antigua and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alison Limerick to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
MC5,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
Yellowson,
Little Man,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rekid,
Lower 48,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
Toni Rubio,
Skaos,
Brick,
The Offenders,
Ken Boothe,
Roxette,
Ludus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Q and Not U,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Reuben Wilson,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter and Kerry,
Angry Samoans,
Letta Mbulu,
The Walker Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Liliput,
Camouflage,
Siglo XX,
Excepter,
Alice Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Grauzone,
Sällskapet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slits,
UT,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The American Breed,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pole,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
The Velvet Underground,
The Busters,
Ronnie Foster,
Essential Logic,
Jeff Mills,
DJ Sneak,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.