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 Bhutan and from Lyon.
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 Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Accadde A to the disco 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
The Techniques,
The Alarm Clocks,
D'Angelo,
kango's stein massive,
Amon Düül,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Connie Case,
Wally Richardson,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Japan,
The Mummies,
Gang Starr,
Au Pairs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Trojans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Skatalites,
Silicon Teens,
Johnny Clarke,
Al Stewart,
Prince Buster,
Todd Terry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Monochrome Set,
Nico,
Arthur Verocai,
Dennis Brown,
The Wake,
LL Cool J,
Brass Construction,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mandrill,
Harmonia,
Los Fastidios,
Banda Bassotti,
Clear Light,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Icehouse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pylon,
Idris Muhammad,
Ornette Coleman,
Scott Walker,
Maleditus Sound,
Severed Heads,
Fela Kuti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Toasters,
Swans,
Chrome,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.