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 Jamaica and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Modern Lovers to the rap 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Black Sheep,
Wire,
The Cure,
Bluetip,
Slick Rick,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
Japan,
Slave,
The Associates,
Lalann,
Symarip,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faraquet,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nirvana,
The Fortunes,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Clarke,
Henry Cow,
the Germs,
The Moody Blues,
Cymande,
Al Stewart,
Masters at Work,
Graham Central Station,
The Divine Comedy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Don Cherry,
The Remains,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
China Crisis,
David McCallum,
The Fuzztones,
Fela Kuti,
Section 25,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smiths,
Depeche Mode,
Electric Prunes,
Eurythmics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Silicon Teens,
These Immortal Souls,
Tropical Tobacco,
FM Einheit,
Neu!,
The Skatalites,
Yusef Lateef,
Shoche,
Gang Green,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.