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 Gabon 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Ronan,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Standells,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ludus,
Suburban Knight,
Model 500,
Monolake,
Fat Boys,
Dual Sessions,
The Black Dice,
Josef K,
Icehouse,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pretty Things,
Ultravox,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masters at Work,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moody Blues,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABBA,
Television Personalities,
The Fugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Magma,
Blancmange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Görl,
Theoretical Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
Heaven 17,
Agitation Free,
Yusef Lateef,
Kaleidoscope,
Pere Ubu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The New Christs,
Siglo XX,
Kerri Chandler,
H. Thieme,
Radiohead,
The Move,
The Cowsills,
Arthur Verocai,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.