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 Bhutan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 Bobby Byrd to the electroclash 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Glambeats Corp.,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
Liliput,
Archie Shepp,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wolf Eyes,
The Leaves,
Jeff Mills,
Stiv Bators,
Graham Central Station,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magazine,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fuzztones,
Drexciya,
Cameo,
Yusef Lateef,
Mantronix,
The Slackers,
MC5,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ludus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Make Up,
Tim Buckley,
Todd Rundgren,
Index,
ABC,
Urselle,
Janne Schatter,
Mission of Burma,
X-Ray Spex,
MDC,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Laurel Aitken,
Severed Heads,
Dave Gahan,
Carl Craig,
Prince Buster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Wells,
Soulsonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.