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 Estonia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Durutti Column,
Thompson Twins,
Boz Scaggs,
Amon Düül II,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Music Machine,
The Golliwogs,
Rod Modell,
Minor Threat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Divine Comedy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
Technova,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Todd Terry,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gun Club,
T. Rex,
Drexciya,
the Sonics,
Pagans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oneida,
Stereo Dub,
DNA,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cure,
Shoche,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sound Behaviour,
Patti Smith,
Max Romeo,
The Skatalites,
Gang Green,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vainqueur,
Charles Mingus,
The Fortunes,
Von Mondo,
Dual Sessions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Das Ding,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Subhumans,
Donald Byrd,
Quadrant,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Names,
The Smiths,
Tres Demented,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.