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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gap Band to the jazz 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
Minny Pops,
Blossom Toes,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun Ra,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
Ludus,
The Smiths,
The Move,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters,
Albert Ayler,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalann,
Saccharine Trust,
Agitation Free,
Rufus Thomas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rites of Spring,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yusef Lateef,
The Happenings,
The Five Americans,
Henry Cow,
Skaos,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Pagans,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Bourne,
The Vogues,
Sparks,
The Star Department,
Schoolly D,
Bill Near,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Prince Buster,
The J.B.'s,
Mad Mike,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.