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 Australia and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 The New Christs to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Qualms,
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
The Count Five,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Ponytail,
The Smiths,
Funky Four + One,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Matthew Halsall,
Juan Atkins,
Dual Sessions,
Nas,
Peter and Kerry,
ABBA,
Urselle,
The Cowsills,
Minny Pops,
Au Pairs,
Black Flag,
Darondo,
The Invisible,
Symarip,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
Todd Rundgren,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arab on Radar,
Mr. Review,
Brass Construction,
Laurel Aitken,
Unrelated Segments,
ABC,
The Trojans,
Malaria!,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scion,
DJ Sneak,
Don Cherry,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dirtbombs,
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.