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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eddi Front 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gap Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry's Kids,
Aswad,
Monolake,
Joe Smooth,
Goldenarms,
Charles Mingus,
Guru Guru,
Robert Hood,
Black Bananas,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Barracudas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marine Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Sneak,
Johnny Clarke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gun Club,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed,
Rakim,
Von Mondo,
June Days,
Kerrie Biddell,
Godley & Creme,
The New Christs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Quadrant,
The Offenders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dual Sessions,
Scan 7,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
The Pretty Things,
La Düsseldorf,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Howard Jones,
Pagans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Procol Harum,
The Real Kids,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.