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 Italy and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Connie Case to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Sound Behaviour,
The Vogues,
Colin Newman,
the Bar-Kays,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Saccharine Trust,
Soul II Soul,
the Soft Cell,
Mars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Clear Light,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amon Düül,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Pretty Things,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Archie Shepp,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
Ice-T,
the Slits,
Crooked Eye,
The Motions,
Deadbeat,
Minny Pops,
Scott Walker,
Cluster,
Duran Duran,
Gabor Szabo,
Index,
Maurizio,
Ponytail,
Eden Ahbez,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blake Baxter,
The Star Department,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
David McCallum,
Ludus,
the Germs,
Roy Ayers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scientists,
Pantytec,
Animal Collective,
Lucky Dragons,
Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Buckinghams,
These Immortal Souls,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.