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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rock 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Monks,
Sällskapet,
Maurizio,
Fela Kuti,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
Bang On A Can,
Urselle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Agitation Free,
Eric Copeland,
Peter & Gordon,
Banda Bassotti,
The Five Americans,
Rites of Spring,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Flag,
Mantronix,
The Happenings,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy Collins,
The Durutti Column,
Sound Behaviour,
Khruangbin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Funkadelic,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Y Pants,
Judy Mowatt,
Kenny Larkin,
China Crisis,
The Cowsills,
Index,
Scott Walker,
Skarface,
Deadbeat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lightning Bolt,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aural Exciters,
Magma,
Procol Harum,
Angry Samoans,
Kaleidoscope,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lakeside,
Jeff Mills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Litter,
The Golliwogs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
The Residents,
The American Breed,
Cal Tjader,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.