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 Jordan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 Glenn Branca to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry,
Nico,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Terry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Offenders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thompson Twins,
Ronnie Foster,
The Remains,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt,
John Lydon,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
La Düsseldorf,
Tears for Fears,
Intrusion,
Brass Construction,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yusef Lateef,
Clear Light,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Hasil Adkins,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Wyatt,
Motorama,
The Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
June Days,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fluxion,
Duran Duran,
Ossler,
Khruangbin,
Ken Boothe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erykah Badu,
Little Man,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
Rites of Spring,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minny Pops,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.