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 Seychelles and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Erykah Badu to the techno 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Eve St. Jones,
Severed Heads,
Pere Ubu,
Lakeside,
Newcleus,
Shoche,
Donny Hathaway,
Sound Behaviour,
kango's stein massive,
The Black Dice,
Q and Not U,
Roy Ayers,
Jacques Brel,
Oneida,
Technova,
Pantytec,
The Associates,
The Cramps,
Sight & Sound,
The Dead C,
Electric Light Orchestra,
D'Angelo,
Clear Light,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thompson Twins,
the Human League,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dennis Brown,
Excepter,
Quantec,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ice-T,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
AZ,
The Durutti Column,
The New Christs,
Average White Band,
Accadde A,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Girls At Our Best!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-101,
10cc,
Fat Boys,
The Invisible,
Dead Boys,
Make Up,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reagan Youth,
Crooked Eye,
Arthur Verocai,
Moby Grape,
Guru Guru,
Skaos,
Rufus Thomas,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.