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 Burkina and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mandrill to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
The Kinks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mark Hollis,
Magma,
Dark Day,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Slits,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Harmonia,
The Techniques,
Nik Kershaw,
Hashim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
T. Rex,
Deepchord,
Chrome,
Flash Fearless,
The Angels of Light,
Blancmange,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bush Tetras,
E-Dancer,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Technova,
Heaven 17,
Man Parrish,
Sister Nancy,
Barry Ungar,
Ronnie Foster,
DJ Sneak,
Eddi Front,
Fela Kuti,
The Skatalites,
Bill Wells,
Henry Cow,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MDC,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
The Saints,
The Smiths,
The Standells,
Audionom,
Laurel Aitken,
Blossom Toes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fluxion,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter and Kerry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Byrd,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.