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 the UAE and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 ABBA to the funk 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ice-T,
Matthew Halsall,
Public Enemy,
Ossler,
New Order,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Index,
Juan Atkins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
UT,
Fat Boys,
Procol Harum,
Stetsasonic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Metal Thangz,
The Music Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
Pulsallama,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mojo Men,
B.T. Express,
Mantronix,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
Alice Coltrane,
Agitation Free,
Amazonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ten City,
Average White Band,
Black Pus,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bush Tetras,
Arab on Radar,
The J.B.'s,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric Dolphy,
Camouflage,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeff Lynne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Danielle Patucci,
Thee Headcoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dave Clark Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Barry Ungar,
Howard Jones,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.