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 San Marino and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Gap Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fatback Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q and Not U,
Michelle Simonal,
The Blackbyrds,
Nas,
Marmalade,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
Harry Pussy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Invisible,
Henry Cow,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
Anthony Braxton,
X-101,
Bad Manners,
The American Breed,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy Collins,
The Toasters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tres Demented,
Parry Music,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Bananas,
Fluxion,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Essential Logic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sister Nancy,
The Last Poets,
Fad Gadget,
Infiniti,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Sonny Sharrock,
48th St. Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Banda Bassotti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pagans,
Shuggie Otis,
the Swans,
Erykah Badu,
the Sonics,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
Tom Boy,
a-ha,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.