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 Laos and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Model 500,
Susan Cadogan,
E-Dancer,
Spoonie Gee,
The Monochrome Set,
Kevin Saunderson,
Little Man,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacques Brel,
Simply Red,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Black Dice,
The Smiths,
Groovy Waters,
the Slits,
Thompson Twins,
The Invisible,
Carl Craig,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blackbyrds,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Scrapy,
Maurizio,
Japan,
Massinfluence,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Foxx,
Gang Green,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABC,
Eurythmics,
Joe Smooth,
The Skatalites,
Electric Prunes,
Nils Olav,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barry Ungar,
Schoolly D,
Faraquet,
The Walker Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
John Cale,
The Busters,
Jawbox,
Visage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ituana,
The Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sister Nancy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alison Limerick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Finger,
ABBA,
Dennis Brown,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.