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 Argentina 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Magazine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Laurel Aitken,
The Five Americans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Patti Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brand Nubian,
Flash Fearless,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Swans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Piero Umiliani,
Alton Ellis,
The Toasters,
Qualms,
Ludus,
Procol Harum,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
Quando Quango,
Eurythmics,
Talk Talk,
Harry Pussy,
Schoolly D,
Outsiders,
Guru Guru,
Boz Scaggs,
Dark Day,
Skaos,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Star Department,
Accadde A,
Blancmange,
The Cowsills,
Colin Newman,
Black Moon,
Scan 7,
Cluster,
Lou Christie,
The Music Machine,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blackbyrds,
Agent Orange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amon Düül II,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
Silicon Teens,
Dennis Brown,
Moss Icon,
Cymande,
Tres Demented,
Rod Modell,
La Düsseldorf,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Surgeon,
Visage,
Funkadelic,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.