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 Kenya and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Bill Near to the rap 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Qualms,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
The Smoke,
Fad Gadget,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Lynne,
The Doors,
Los Fastidios,
Bauhaus,
New Order,
Joe Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Davy DMX,
The Blues Magoos,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hot Snakes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Angels of Light,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Goldenarms,
Black Flag,
In Retrospect,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barrington Levy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Residents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Letta Mbulu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Thompson Twins,
AZ,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lightning Bolt,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
David Bowie,
Chrome,
Porter Ricks,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Michelle Simonal,
Joey Negro,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scientists,
Parry Music,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.