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 Israel and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Marmalade to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
Deakin,
H. Thieme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Womack,
Q65,
Easy Going,
These Immortal Souls,
X-102,
Howard Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Spandau Ballet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Agent Orange,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxy Music,
Mo-Dettes,
the Swans,
Cybotron,
Bluetip,
Main Source,
The Selecter,
The Gladiators,
Television Personalities,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
Alton Ellis,
The New Christs,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Black Moon,
The Fortunes,
Barry Ungar,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Associates,
Aloha Tigers,
New Age Steppers,
Sun City Girls,
Crime,
Make Up,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magazine,
Althea and Donna,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moby Grape,
Delta 5,
Jerry's Kids,
Drexciya,
The Standells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
Nas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Al Stewart,
Scratch Acid,
Nirvana,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.