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 Armenia and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Pussy Galore,
The Standells,
R.M.O.,
Lightning Bolt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Procol Harum,
The Index,
Main Source,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Nick Fraelich,
Electric Prunes,
Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mandrill,
Radio Birdman,
Inner City,
T.S.O.L.,
Technova,
Liliput,
Brick,
Sam Rivers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Dolphy,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantytec,
The Slackers,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
PIL,
Depeche Mode,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Livin' Joy,
Panda Bear,
The Velvet Underground,
Schoolly D,
Lindisfarne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fear,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tomorrow,
The Martian,
D'Angelo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Quadrant,
the Fania All-Stars,
Audionom,
Steve Hackett,
The Dave Clark Five,
T. Rex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sixth Finger,
Todd Terry,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.