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 Mongolia and from Edmonton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
the Swans,
H. Thieme,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
Rites of Spring,
Eddi Front,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
The Move,
Quando Quango,
Ponytail,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Bluetip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Urselle,
Unwound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dark Day,
Swell Maps,
Jerry's Kids,
KRS-One,
Audionom,
Y Pants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Count Five,
Negative Approach,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
Lower 48,
Judy Mowatt,
Ohio Players,
Michelle Simonal,
The Techniques,
Maurizio,
Metal Thangz,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerrie Biddell,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
The Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Talk Talk,
the Germs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bill Near,
The Music Machine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.