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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Kayak,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
The Vogues,
Echospace,
Prince Buster,
Chris & Cosey,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Fat Boys,
Nas,
Interpol,
Mandrill,
Lindisfarne,
Scientists,
Unwound,
Terry Callier,
June of 44,
The Skatalites,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harmonia,
Bluetip,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
Pere Ubu,
James White and The Blacks,
the Association,
KRS-One,
Rapeman,
The Gories,
The Monks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
Kerri Chandler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bauhaus,
Sight & Sound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sparks,
the Slits,
Gichy Dan,
The Doobie Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Lucky Dragons,
Roger Hodgson,
Skarface,
X-101,
Minor Threat,
Slick Rick,
The Move,
Michelle Simonal,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.