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 Saudi Arabia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ponytail to the rock 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
The Vogues,
Stetsasonic,
Kenny Larkin,
Junior Murvin,
Iggy Pop,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Starr,
Trumans Water,
These Immortal Souls,
Matthew Bourne,
Guru Guru,
Wings,
Underground Resistance,
Amon Düül,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hardrive,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ohio Players,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alton Ellis,
A Certain Ratio,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
Yusef Lateef,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
The Stooges,
Goldenarms,
The Mummies,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Halsall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
T. Rex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalann,
Joy Division,
Severed Heads,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
Connie Case,
Visage,
Flipper,
Wire,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gories,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Schoolly D,
The Mojo Men,
The Associates,
Max Romeo,
CMW,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.