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 Israel and from London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Mission of Burma to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Gabor Szabo,
Pierre Henry,
Buzzcocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Qualms,
Simply Red,
Ornette Coleman,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yellowson,
Erasure,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mo-Dettes,
Spandau Ballet,
Pulsallama,
Minutemen,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
Silicon Teens,
Interpol,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
Zapp,
Nils Olav,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monks,
Toni Rubio,
The Gories,
Scott Walker,
Piero Umiliani,
KRS-One,
Young Marble Giants,
EPMD,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Subhumans,
Mandrill,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Style,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donny Hathaway,
Urselle,
Flash Fearless,
Crash Course in Science,
Basic Channel,
Clear Light,
Hasil Adkins,
UT,
Suicide,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.