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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Wake to the electroclash 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The Red Krayola,
Ten City,
Pet Shop Boys,
10cc,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echospace,
Carl Craig,
Infiniti,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
The Velvet Underground,
The Moleskins,
The Blues Magoos,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fluxion,
H. Thieme,
Depeche Mode,
Pole,
Cheater Slicks,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Lynne,
Harmonia,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Symarip,
the Swans,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
DJ Style,
The Residents,
Derrick May,
The Cramps,
Technova,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
Unwound,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
Barry Ungar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Traffic Nightmare,
kango's stein massive,
Mantronix,
Skaos,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.