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 Tajikistan and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Buzzcocks to the rock 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Gories,
Lalo Schifrin,
Darondo,
Morten Harket,
Accadde A,
Groovy Waters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The United States of America,
Tubeway Army,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ohio Players,
Chrome,
U.S. Maple,
48th St. Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Lightning Bolt,
Lalann,
Roxy Music,
D'Angelo,
Duran Duran,
Chris Corsano,
Hardrive,
New Order,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Organ,
Pere Ubu,
A Certain Ratio,
Byron Stingily,
Masters at Work,
Simply Red,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Copeland,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
Bush Tetras,
Q and Not U,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tommy Roe,
Fad Gadget,
Jacob Miller,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hashim,
Andrew Hill,
Interpol,
Sister Nancy,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.