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 Hungary and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Todd Terry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Groovy Waters,
Albert Ayler,
Desert Stars,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cameo,
Neil Young,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultra Naté,
Gabor Szabo,
Stetsasonic,
the Normal,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Television,
Man Parrish,
Yaz,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camouflage,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Byron Stingily,
Joensuu 1685,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
Severed Heads,
Stockholm Monsters,
Juan Atkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Index,
Boredoms,
The Divine Comedy,
Marvin Gaye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mark Hollis,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Sight & Sound,
10cc,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlback,
Index,
Second Layer,
ABC,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Guru Guru,
Adolescents,
The Golliwogs,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Eddi Front,
Cybotron,
Kerri Chandler,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.