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 Canada and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Wally Richardson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
Boz Scaggs,
Skarface,
Zero Boys,
Black Flag,
The Cowsills,
David Bowie,
Interpol,
Dawn Penn,
Bad Manners,
The Red Krayola,
cv313,
The Black Dice,
DNA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arcadia,
Boredoms,
Cymande,
Pantytec,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Tubeway Army,
The Motions,
The Tremeloes,
Au Pairs,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scion,
Prince Buster,
Vainqueur,
CMW,
Man Parrish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
Joe Smooth,
Toni Rubio,
New York Dolls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Rufus Thomas,
Young Marble Giants,
Peter & Gordon,
Silicon Teens,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
U.S. Maple,
Agitation Free,
Darondo,
Sister Nancy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.