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 Kyrgyzstan and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Flesh Eaters to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donny Hathaway,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Kaleidoscope,
The Monks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sonics,
the Association,
Scion,
Au Pairs,
Adolescents,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Neon Judgement,
Byron Stingily,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
Negative Approach,
Malaria!,
Inner City,
The Wake,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nik Kershaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Kevin Saunderson,
Little Man,
Todd Rundgren,
Thompson Twins,
Roxette,
Basic Channel,
Khruangbin,
Dark Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Suburban Knight,
The Skatalites,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Grass Roots,
Shuggie Otis,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dead C,
Fear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.