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 Malawi and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Ronnie Foster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Skaos,
Angry Samoans,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
Ohio Players,
Drexciya,
Faraquet,
Nirvana,
Matthew Halsall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blossom Toes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacques Brel,
The Zeros,
Spoonie Gee,
The Music Machine,
Can,
Byron Stingily,
Kaleidoscope,
The Durutti Column,
New York Dolls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Womack,
Black Flag,
Thompson Twins,
Fatback Band,
The Offenders,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Lydon,
One Last Wish,
Adolescents,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Smooth,
Blancmange,
Dave Gahan,
ABBA,
Grey Daturas,
The Techniques,
Desert Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Y Pants,
Erykah Badu,
Sex Pistols,
Kerri Chandler,
Mark Hollis,
Yusef Lateef,
Tommy Roe,
KRS-One,
Bronski Beat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Derrick May,
the Bar-Kays,
Chris & Cosey,
PIL,
Skarface,
Stiv Bators,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.