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 Malaysia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
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 oboe 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 Gregory Isaacs to the crunk 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacob Miller,
Hot Snakes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Los Fastidios,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sight & Sound,
Flipper,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers,
Cameo,
Susan Cadogan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dawn Penn,
Cymande,
Minnie Riperton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pussy Galore,
Kenny Larkin,
Skriet,
The Knickerbockers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Smoke,
Camberwell Now,
Lucky Dragons,
Joyce Sims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Royal Trux,
Patti Smith,
Index,
The Vogues,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxy Music,
Arthur Verocai,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerri Chandler,
Organ,
Das Ding,
X-102,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Rakim,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Soul II Soul,
Bob Dylan,
Aloha Tigers,
Desert Stars,
The Kinks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.