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 Liechtenstein and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Juan Atkins,
MC5,
Excepter,
Bill Near,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arab on Radar,
Guru Guru,
Josef K,
Main Source,
Fluxion,
Model 500,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Black Dice,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moss Icon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Trumans Water,
AZ,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
The Names,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
Faust,
Dark Day,
Derrick May,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glambeats Corp.,
Swell Maps,
Blossom Toes,
Alison Limerick,
Jacques Brel,
Radio Birdman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
Japan,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
Mission of Burma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Leaves,
One Last Wish,
Yaz,
Mars,
Pulsallama,
Todd Terry,
Pantaleimon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cal Tjader,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Isaac Hayes,
The Skatalites,
Unwound,
Albert Ayler,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.