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 Papua New Guinea and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Average White Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Can,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
10cc,
Connie Case,
Erykah Badu,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeff Mills,
Y Pants,
Nico,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Groovy Waters,
Smog,
The Offenders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare,
Crash Course in Science,
Chris Corsano,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Womack,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
Robert Wyatt,
The Durutti Column,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angry Samoans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Los Fastidios,
The Smiths,
Delta 5,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alton Ellis,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spoonie Gee,
Magazine,
Kayak,
Warsaw,
Terry Callier,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
Yazoo,
The Cure,
Jeff Lynne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hashim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Ohio Players,
Radiopuhelimet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.