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 Korea South and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gil Scott Heron 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms 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 Five Americans,
Crash Course in Science,
The Stooges,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sonics,
Cal Tjader,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
The Mojo Men,
Agent Orange,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Mr. Review,
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Bad Manners,
UT,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roger Hodgson,
Jeff Lynne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jandek,
Subhumans,
KRS-One,
The Raincoats,
Q65,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barry Ungar,
Eric Dolphy,
Shoche,
the Germs,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Interpol,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
The Detroit Cobras,
These Immortal Souls,
Mo-Dettes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Bauhaus,
Au Pairs,
Ponytail,
Public Enemy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ornette Coleman,
Pagans,
Pole,
John Cale,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Hoover,
Iggy Pop,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
Deadbeat,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.