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 Eritrea and from Tokyo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Royal Trux 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scientists,
Matthew Bourne,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
Television Personalities,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Saints,
The J.B.'s,
Chris & Cosey,
Todd Terry,
Royal Trux,
Massinfluence,
Deadbeat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Goldenarms,
Yusef Lateef,
Gichy Dan,
The Smoke,
The Golliwogs,
The Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maleditus Sound,
Camouflage,
Brick,
Duran Duran,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
Fatback Band,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
The Index,
Nation of Ulysses,
Symarip,
Throbbing Gristle,
kango's stein massive,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
Marmalade,
The Sound,
Animal Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Carl Craig,
Lucky Dragons,
The Toasters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
Liliput,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Moss Icon,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.