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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Dennis Brown to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Ice-T,
Basic Channel,
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June Days,
Amazonics,
Josef K,
Don Cherry,
Roger Hodgson,
Angry Samoans,
Joy Division,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sonics,
Quadrant,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
The Black Dice,
Wire,
Kerri Chandler,
Unwound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Harry Pussy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Kinks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Divine Comedy,
In Retrospect,
Funkadelic,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed,
Little Man,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monks,
Carl Craig,
Rosa Yemen,
David Axelrod,
Reagan Youth,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Erykah Badu,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Copeland,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Flag,
Swell Maps,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.