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 China and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 Tomorrow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
T. Rex,
Kurtis Blow,
Ken Boothe,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
The Neon Judgement,
Alison Limerick,
Masters at Work,
Letta Mbulu,
Hardrive,
Audionom,
Minnie Riperton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Green,
Jawbox,
Rekid,
Sun City Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
Steve Hackett,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marmalade,
Pere Ubu,
Pierre Henry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
June of 44,
Ponytail,
Model 500,
Schoolly D,
Parry Music,
Lower 48,
Rosa Yemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Star Department,
Underground Resistance,
Yusef Lateef,
Pet Shop Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
James White and The Blacks,
Liliput,
Aaron Thompson,
Warsaw,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Smoke,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare,
The Knickerbockers,
Outsiders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.