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 Turkmenistan and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Symarip to the funk 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Radio Birdman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Urselle,
The Fall,
Kas Product,
Sugar Minott,
Popol Vuh,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Motorama,
LL Cool J,
CMW,
Agitation Free,
DJ Style,
MDC,
Faraquet,
ABC,
Tim Buckley,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Electric Prunes,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Janne Schatter,
Nik Kershaw,
Harry Pussy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
Sight & Sound,
EPMD,
Reuben Wilson,
The Misunderstood,
Panda Bear,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gladiators,
Terry Callier,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bootsy Collins,
Carl Craig,
Oneida,
Henry Cow,
Banda Bassotti,
Frankie Knuckles,
Inner City,
Sarah Menescal,
China Crisis,
Arab on Radar,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Graham Central Station,
Ultravox,
Susan Cadogan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.