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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Thee Headcoats to the funk 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
Icehouse,
Glenn Branca,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Angels of Light,
The Tremeloes,
FM Einheit,
Warsaw,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Shoche,
PIL,
Au Pairs,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
In Retrospect,
Cecil Taylor,
Tom Boy,
The Raincoats,
The Grass Roots,
Motorama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vladislav Delay,
Guru Guru,
Agitation Free,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Skatalites,
Cymande,
The Leaves,
Fatback Band,
Fat Boys,
Archie Shepp,
The Last Poets,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Erasure,
The Buckinghams,
Oblivians,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
Visage,
Aaron Thompson,
Carl Craig,
The Young Rascals,
Girls At Our Best!,
Reagan Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The J.B.'s,
David McCallum,
The Durutti Column,
Donald Byrd,
Pantytec,
Symarip,
Deakin,
Whodini,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.