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 Madagascar and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Albert Ayler to the crunk 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Brass Construction,
Man Eating Sloth,
Q65,
The Real Kids,
New Age Steppers,
Joe Smooth,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Associates,
Livin' Joy,
The Birthday Party,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tears for Fears,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dark Day,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deepchord,
Index,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Camberwell Now,
Unwound,
Warsaw,
Faraquet,
Funkadelic,
Japan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ronan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Half Japanese,
Yaz,
Brand Nubian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ten City,
John Coltrane,
Mad Mike,
Cheater Slicks,
Alphaville,
Mark Hollis,
Judy Mowatt,
Sixth Finger,
Sex Pistols,
Mr. Review,
Babytalk,
Iggy Pop,
Main Source,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television,
Sonic Youth,
MC5,
Barry Ungar,
Delta 5,
Alton Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.