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 Somalia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Stereo Dub to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 synthesizer and an oboe 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 guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
New Age Steppers,
Toni Rubio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Searchers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
Ornette Coleman,
The Grass Roots,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Albert Ayler,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Machine,
Mantronix,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cowsills,
Bill Near,
Banda Bassotti,
Joey Negro,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pole,
Tim Buckley,
Aaron Thompson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ice-T,
Ituana,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monks,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Blossom Toes,
Pagans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Pretty Things,
X-101,
Echospace,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Clarke,
Boz Scaggs,
Nas,
Ronan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jesper Dahlback,
ABC,
Quantec,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Cybotron,
a-ha,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.