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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Lebanon Hanover to the disco 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
The Gap Band,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Massinfluence,
Radio Birdman,
The Busters,
China Crisis,
Moby Grape,
Harpers Bizarre,
Harry Pussy,
OOIOO,
Blancmange,
Alphaville,
Interpol,
Gichy Dan,
Darondo,
Soul II Soul,
Mr. Review,
The Techniques,
Pylon,
Bobby Womack,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
Bang On A Can,
a-ha,
Monolake,
T. Rex,
Heaven 17,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lindisfarne,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Stooges,
A Certain Ratio,
R.M.O.,
Boogie Down Productions,
Essential Logic,
Marmalade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
Agitation Free,
Don Cherry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Basic Channel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Donny Hathaway,
Technova,
Crash Course in Science,
10cc,
The Fall,
Clear Light,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül II,
Quantec,
Wings,
Blossom Toes,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick May,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.