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 Mauritania and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Soulsonic Force to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monochrome Set,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Durutti Column,
The Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unrelated Segments,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
Sällskapet,
A Certain Ratio,
The Toasters,
Franke,
Pantytec,
Chris & Cosey,
Inner City,
The Index,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minor Threat,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
Visage,
Derrick May,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chrome,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Negative Approach,
Rod Modell,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
Lungfish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fugazi,
Steve Hackett,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Tommy Roe,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Trojans,
Juan Atkins,
The Evens,
John Foxx,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Cal Tjader,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pere Ubu,
T.S.O.L.,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Bourne,
Panda Bear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.