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 Korea North and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Delta 5 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
The Move,
Intrusion,
Aural Exciters,
Hardrive,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Raincoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Kenny Larkin,
James White and The Blacks,
Josef K,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Associates,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Isaac Hayes,
Audionom,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
This Heat,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Q and Not U,
AZ,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
The Stooges,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Music Machine,
Clear Light,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
The Pretty Things,
Quantec,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Y Pants,
One Last Wish,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
Harry Pussy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fela Kuti,
Arcadia,
Joensuu 1685,
Los Fastidios,
ABBA,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cowsills,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.