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 Portugal and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Youth Brigade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
Motorama,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Smoke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lightning Bolt,
Blossom Toes,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
The J.B.'s,
Harmonia,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Invisible,
Gang Starr,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Lynne,
Shuggie Otis,
Arthur Verocai,
Young Marble Giants,
Rufus Thomas,
LL Cool J,
Livin' Joy,
David Bowie,
Ronnie Foster,
Cymande,
Niagra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quando Quango,
Nik Kershaw,
Icehouse,
Juan Atkins,
Malaria!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minny Pops,
June Days,
The Remains,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Qualms,
UT,
Minutemen,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
R.M.O.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Youth Brigade,
MC5,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
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.