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 Azerbaijan 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ken Boothe to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
One Last Wish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barclay James Harvest,
Goldenarms,
Davy DMX,
Maurizio,
Section 25,
David Axelrod,
June of 44,
Tubeway Army,
Ultra Naté,
T.S.O.L.,
the Swans,
Graham Central Station,
The Smoke,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
John Foxx,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Gang Dance,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Association,
Royal Trux,
LL Cool J,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sarah Menescal,
Von Mondo,
The Buckinghams,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Last Poets,
the Normal,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Half Japanese,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Hill,
Soul II Soul,
Fluxion,
This Heat,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Thompson Twins,
Derrick Morgan,
Yazoo,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mo-Dettes,
Connie Case,
Neil Young,
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
Ponytail,
Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.