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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grime 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Eddi Front,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ituana,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Groovy Waters,
Shuggie Otis,
Aloha Tigers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rapeman,
D'Angelo,
Godley & Creme,
Ronnie Foster,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
The Skatalites,
Joey Negro,
the Human League,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kaleidoscope,
Anthony Braxton,
The American Breed,
Funkadelic,
Pantytec,
Fela Kuti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smoke,
Henry Cow,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minny Pops,
the Bar-Kays,
Stiv Bators,
Animal Collective,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lindisfarne,
Judy Mowatt,
Sugar Minott,
Dark Day,
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultra Naté,
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
DJ Sneak,
Fatback Band,
Dennis Brown,
Rufus Thomas,
Patti Smith,
Ronan,
Susan Cadogan,
These Immortal Souls,
Oneida,
Jeru the Damaja,
B.T. Express,
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.