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 Cuba and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cameo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Whodini,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mandrill,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Pus,
Ultra Naté,
The Vogues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blossom Toes,
Blancmange,
Barry Ungar,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soft Machine,
Vainqueur,
the Association,
Graham Central Station,
Sexual Harrassment,
Michelle Simonal,
Cybotron,
Yazoo,
Vladislav Delay,
Aural Exciters,
Talk Talk,
Skaos,
Young Marble Giants,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül,
Sex Pistols,
Echospace,
Maurizio,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
UT,
Pharoah Sanders,
Audionom,
Stiv Bators,
Scan 7,
Donny Hathaway,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Negative Approach,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
T.S.O.L.,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.