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 Cape Verde and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the grime 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Crime,
Nico,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang of Four,
Cybotron,
Fear,
Neil Young,
The Five Americans,
the Human League,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sällskapet,
Hashim,
Flipper,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monks,
Grauzone,
Nirvana,
Lyres,
Intrusion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joy Division,
DJ Sneak,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-102,
Infiniti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Joe Finger,
Vladislav Delay,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alison Limerick,
Ultra Naté,
Crooked Eye,
Barrington Levy,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oneida,
Jerry's Kids,
Alton Ellis,
The Offenders,
Main Source,
Minutemen,
Soul II Soul,
Gong,
Wolf Eyes,
Masters at Work,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantytec,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.