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 Germany and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alton Ellis to the crunk 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mad Mike,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Misunderstood,
Faust,
Gang Starr,
The Residents,
Bootsy Collins,
Youth Brigade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Trojans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harmonia,
Swell Maps,
Thee Headcoats,
Toni Rubio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Depeche Mode,
Tears for Fears,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
Gerry Rafferty,
Silicon Teens,
June Days,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxette,
Quando Quango,
Mo-Dettes,
Cecil Taylor,
Erykah Badu,
Carl Craig,
The Searchers,
Tim Buckley,
Porter Ricks,
Ultra Naté,
The Neon Judgement,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
The Index,
Derrick Morgan,
La Düsseldorf,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.