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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Junior Murvin to the crunk 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bluetip,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Sneak,
Marmalade,
R.M.O.,
Connie Case,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
Delta 5,
Babytalk,
John Cale,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Sherman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smoke,
Gang Green,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Hill,
Motorama,
Loose Ends,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Silicon Teens,
The Knickerbockers,
MC5,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Surgeon,
the Human League,
Whodini,
Donald Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
Essential Logic,
Theoretical Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
The New Christs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
AZ,
The Zeros,
Aloha Tigers,
Juan Atkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Lalo Schifrin,
June Days,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
Tomorrow,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.