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 Sudan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ 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 Tom Boy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Shoche,
Maleditus Sound,
Scion,
Pylon,
Dawn Penn,
David Axelrod,
The Martian,
Amon Düül,
Youth Brigade,
Blossom Toes,
The Durutti Column,
Lalann,
Procol Harum,
Donny Hathaway,
OOIOO,
Connie Case,
Q and Not U,
Masters at Work,
David McCallum,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sonics,
Hoover,
Scott Walker,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Moody Blues,
Quantec,
Howard Jones,
Alton Ellis,
Rod Modell,
Zapp,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Altered Images,
Second Layer,
Black Sheep,
Trumans Water,
Q65,
Sister Nancy,
Aswad,
The Vogues,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Loose Ends,
The Fall,
Delta 5,
Joe Finger,
Can,
Dennis Brown,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Shadows of Knight,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Das Ding,
Camberwell Now,
The Cowsills,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ken Boothe,
The Neon Judgement,
DJ Sneak,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.