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 Germany and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 June of 44 to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Oneida,
Kenny Larkin,
Thompson Twins,
Gang of Four,
Gang Green,
Soft Cell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alton Ellis,
Ultravox,
Boredoms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sixth Finger,
Yellowson,
Donald Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Chris Corsano,
Dave Gahan,
The Doors,
Bush Tetras,
Scrapy,
T. Rex,
The Fortunes,
The Sonics,
Underground Resistance,
Sonic Youth,
JFA,
Bootsy Collins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sister Nancy,
Lyres,
H. Thieme,
The Durutti Column,
Swell Maps,
Jeff Mills,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
China Crisis,
Fela Kuti,
Pere Ubu,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Misunderstood,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magazine,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young,
The Golliwogs,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shuggie Otis,
Stereo Dub,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
Subhumans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fear,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.