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 Burkina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rock 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
Grey Daturas,
Oblivians,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
The Gap Band,
Unwound,
Whodini,
Lou Reed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Sneak,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The New Christs,
Angry Samoans,
Erykah Badu,
Scratch Acid,
New Order,
Pantytec,
Joey Negro,
Todd Rundgren,
The Residents,
Andrew Hill,
Crash Course in Science,
the Human League,
Bill Near,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter and Kerry,
Mantronix,
The Cowsills,
Rites of Spring,
The Wake,
Ultravox,
Bobby Byrd,
Guru Guru,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drexciya,
Joy Division,
Eurythmics,
Black Flag,
Glenn Branca,
The Index,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ludus,
Roger Hodgson,
Sight & Sound,
The Seeds,
One Last Wish,
The Durutti Column,
Adolescents,
Fat Boys,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.