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 Singapore and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soft Machine to the grime 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Little Man,
Joe Smooth,
Von Mondo,
Liliput,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxette,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
This Heat,
The Music Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
Rites of Spring,
The Gladiators,
Fat Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Foxx,
David McCallum,
The Remains,
Quadrant,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scrapy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Soul II Soul,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moleskins,
Au Pairs,
Radiohead,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New Order,
The American Breed,
The Wake,
The Searchers,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fortunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fugs,
Minny Pops,
Charles Mingus,
Schoolly D,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
Arab on Radar,
Crooked Eye,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.