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 Belarus and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Average White Band to the crunk 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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Motorama,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sight & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
Franke,
Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Fraelich,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultravox,
T.S.O.L.,
The Velvet Underground,
Livin' Joy,
The Black Dice,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Whodini,
The Happenings,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yaz,
Bronski Beat,
Pantytec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nirvana,
Brass Construction,
the Fania All-Stars,
The United States of America,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scrapy,
Kerri Chandler,
Lower 48,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joe Finger,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Bourne,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pole,
Visage,
Icehouse,
cv313,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
The Motions,
The Gap Band,
The Sound,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.