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 Bhutan and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar 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 Zapp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Joyce Sims,
John Lydon,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Technova,
Gang Green,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlback,
Slave,
Dawn Penn,
the Human League,
Dead Boys,
DNA,
Quadrant,
Gil Scott Heron,
Intrusion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Subhumans,
Babytalk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
The American Breed,
The Wake,
Dennis Brown,
Cameo,
The Leaves,
Arthur Verocai,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soul II Soul,
Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Chrome,
Tommy Roe,
Ituana,
Quantec,
Heaven 17,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Mr. Review,
Malaria!,
Ultra Naté,
Young Marble Giants,
The New Christs,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal,
Black Flag,
Maurizio,
The Pop Group,
The Evens,
Skarface,
The Buckinghams,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eden Ahbez,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.