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 Kenya and from Mexico City.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the techno 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blossom Toes,
Visage,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Music Machine,
The Toasters,
Mantronix,
LL Cool J,
Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantytec,
10cc,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Victims,
Juan Atkins,
Quadrant,
Simply Red,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Axelrod,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Osbourne,
Silicon Teens,
Gong,
the Fania All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Arab on Radar,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
Crispy Ambulance,
Animal Collective,
Japan,
Technova,
Duran Duran,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monolake,
Magma,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kurtis Blow,
The Searchers,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Selecter,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Normal,
Y Pants,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Fraelich,
John Cale,
Amon Düül,
Dead Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Scott Walker,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.