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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Robert Hood to the rap 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Model 500,
Kerri Chandler,
The Young Rascals,
Laurel Aitken,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Babytalk,
JFA,
Malaria!,
Nas,
Donald Byrd,
Magma,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
Aural Exciters,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül II,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Surgeon,
Jeff Lynne,
Q and Not U,
Deakin,
The Seeds,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Reagan Youth,
Gang of Four,
Lyres,
The Blackbyrds,
Maleditus Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Althea and Donna,
The Vogues,
Josef K,
Blake Baxter,
Negative Approach,
Tim Buckley,
T. Rex,
The Stooges,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arcadia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visage,
Oblivians,
Slick Rick,
Traffic Nightmare,
Derrick May,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Black Dice,
Fear,
Warsaw,
Goldenarms,
Circle Jerks,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.