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 Malta and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slick Rick to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Porter Ricks,
Los Fastidios,
John Holt,
Main Source,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bizarre Inc.,
a-ha,
Toni Rubio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reagan Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
MDC,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Residents,
Desert Stars,
Kayak,
Bad Manners,
Oneida,
Aural Exciters,
Glenn Branca,
K-Klass,
Supertramp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Bourne,
Amazonics,
Camouflage,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
Guru Guru,
Sexual Harrassment,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zero Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
X-102,
The Pretty Things,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fugazi,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric B and Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
China Crisis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scion,
Kevin Saunderson,
10cc,
UT,
Sällskapet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barrington Levy,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.