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 Colombia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Letta Mbulu to the disco 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pylon,
The Slackers,
Michelle Simonal,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Invisible,
Pagans,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Görl,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Porter Ricks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonic Youth,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Peter & Gordon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Carl Craig,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Camberwell Now,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agitation Free,
The Searchers,
Parry Music,
Aural Exciters,
Slave,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed,
Deepchord,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glambeats Corp.,
Godley & Creme,
Erykah Badu,
Nils Olav,
Section 25,
The Gun Club,
Niagra,
Qualms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare,
June Days,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Desert Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Near,
The Martian,
John Holt,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.