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 Ireland and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Delon & Dalcan to the electroclash 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Television,
Au Pairs,
the Bar-Kays,
Accadde A,
Soul II Soul,
Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kas Product,
Silicon Teens,
Swell Maps,
D'Angelo,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yellowson,
Albert Ayler,
Robert Wyatt,
Maleditus Sound,
Al Stewart,
Lakeside,
Archie Shepp,
Q and Not U,
Blossom Toes,
Dead Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
Deakin,
Goldenarms,
Blake Baxter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Amazonics,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
John Foxx,
Pole,
Sister Nancy,
The Martian,
Basic Channel,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Massinfluence,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pylon,
Warren Ellis,
Black Sheep,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.