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 Gambia and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 JFA to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Excepter,
Outsiders,
Boz Scaggs,
Alton Ellis,
Gong,
The American Breed,
The Music Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Sarah Menescal,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
The Fuzztones,
Lakeside,
Royal Trux,
Half Japanese,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Porter Ricks,
Bootsy Collins,
Matthew Halsall,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Green,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tres Demented,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
Susan Cadogan,
Faust,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Adolescents,
Oneida,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Babytalk,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cure,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
Grauzone,
John Holt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Lou Christie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Surgeon,
The Wake,
Black Bananas,
Accadde A,
Yellowson,
Ronnie Foster,
Lucky Dragons,
Dennis Brown,
The Evens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Newcleus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.