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 Uruguay and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Juan Atkins to the rap 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Ultravox,
Suicide,
John Foxx,
10cc,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Severed Heads,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Liliput,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fugazi,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Excepter,
Lou Reed,
Andrew Hill,
The New Christs,
Aaron Thompson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Can,
Moebius,
Japan,
Yusef Lateef,
Joy Division,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
The Martian,
Intrusion,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
Swans,
Mad Mike,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kool Moe Dee,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers,
Duran Duran,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
Khruangbin,
Symarip,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Ice-T,
The Index,
Archie Shepp,
Lightning Bolt,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.