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 Finland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hot Snakes to the disco 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Tremeloes,
the Sonics,
Todd Terry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Main Source,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cluster,
Faraquet,
Alton Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
La Düsseldorf,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Livin' Joy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Charles Mingus,
Joy Division,
The Smoke,
The Techniques,
Barrington Levy,
Fear,
Thee Headcoats,
The Standells,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Bar-Kays,
Franke,
Underground Resistance,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blues Magoos,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Urselle,
Heaven 17,
Connie Case,
Kenny Larkin,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
The Fuzztones,
World's Most,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mark Hollis,
Newcleus,
Maurizio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Machine,
Saccharine Trust,
Funkadelic,
Basic Channel,
Erasure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mars,
Hardrive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.