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 Yemen and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Motorama 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Ken Boothe,
Monolake,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Moleskins,
DNA,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Terry,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
Pantaleimon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Hood,
AZ,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pet Shop Boys,
Arcadia,
The Mojo Men,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flipper,
Sun City Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Stooges,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
Blake Baxter,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
Ituana,
L. Decosne,
The Litter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
Josef K,
LL Cool J,
Joe Finger,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Scrapy,
Agent Orange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
The Offenders,
Smog,
Sonic Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.