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 Libya and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
The Dave Clark Five,
Young Marble Giants,
Joensuu 1685,
Freddie Wadling,
Grauzone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hot Snakes,
R.M.O.,
Skaos,
Scott Walker,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barclay James Harvest,
L. Decosne,
Roger Hodgson,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Nas,
Godley & Creme,
Minnie Riperton,
Man Parrish,
Ludus,
The Five Americans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television Personalities,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marmalade,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cal Tjader,
Ronnie Foster,
This Heat,
The Durutti Column,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lindisfarne,
The Divine Comedy,
Bush Tetras,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fortunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
Zapp,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.