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 Sao Paulo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Masters at Work to the rock 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Leaves,
June Days,
Gang of Four,
DJ Style,
Ronnie Foster,
X-Ray Spex,
Fugazi,
The Gun Club,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visage,
Junior Murvin,
Mad Mike,
Charles Mingus,
Alton Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
CMW,
The Selecter,
the Normal,
The Vogues,
Tom Boy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barrington Levy,
Main Source,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Slave,
Letta Mbulu,
Shuggie Otis,
Sandy B,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Christie,
Lou Reed,
Talk Talk,
Carl Craig,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blackbyrds,
Moby Grape,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Zeros,
Bush Tetras,
Crime,
Joy Division,
Khruangbin,
Sun City Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.