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 Egypt and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Lucky Dragons,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
John Lydon,
Tubeway Army,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
48th St. Collective,
Sister Nancy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Ronan,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cowsills,
Nirvana,
The Buckinghams,
Judy Mowatt,
The Golliwogs,
Roxette,
Infiniti,
Babytalk,
Oblivians,
EPMD,
Bill Wells,
Organ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
June Days,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jandek,
Q and Not U,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris Corsano,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Das Ding,
Stetsasonic,
Donald Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Dennis Brown,
The Toasters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Clear Light,
Moby Grape,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Wolf Eyes,
The New Christs,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.