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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Barrington Levy to the dance 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
John Foxx,
David McCallum,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
The Slits,
Chris & Cosey,
Negative Approach,
Liliput,
T. Rex,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
Peter and Kerry,
Alphaville,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
Davy DMX,
Blake Baxter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Organ,
Sun City Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
the Sonics,
DJ Style,
Morten Harket,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Al Stewart,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donald Byrd,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe,
This Heat,
K-Klass,
The United States of America,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Depeche Mode,
Boz Scaggs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moleskins,
Rotary Connection,
Television Personalities,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John 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.