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 Vanuatu and from Halifax.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Eric B and Rakim to the grime 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Livin' Joy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Joe Finger,
Ronnie Foster,
Camouflage,
Youth Brigade,
Porter Ricks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Green,
Das Ding,
Spandau Ballet,
Nas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Supertramp,
Joyce Sims,
Letta Mbulu,
Hot Snakes,
Grauzone,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
Althea and Donna,
Qualms,
Buzzcocks,
Kenny Larkin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang of Four,
The Buckinghams,
Davy DMX,
Cecil Taylor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moleskins,
Warsaw,
The Gap Band,
The Cramps,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
DNA,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tubeway Army,
Television Personalities,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rufus Thomas,
Slick Rick,
Kerri Chandler,
Yellowson,
Moebius,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.