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 India and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Television to the grunge 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Los Fastidios,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Albert Ayler,
Wire,
the Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sarah Menescal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joey Negro,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alphaville,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Velvet Underground,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stereo Dub,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shuggie Otis,
Schoolly D,
Ice-T,
Brass Construction,
Quando Quango,
Moebius,
The Human League,
The Gories,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boredoms,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Agent Orange,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Duran Duran,
The Music Machine,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
New York Dolls,
Bush Tetras,
Tubeway Army,
Skaos,
Stiv Bators,
Mandrill,
Iggy Pop,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
R.M.O.,
the Normal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Archie Shepp,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fortunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.