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 Bahrain and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba 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 spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alison Limerick,
The Fire Engines,
Rotary Connection,
The Searchers,
Swans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chris & Cosey,
Joyce Sims,
Interpol,
The Gories,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Fatback Band,
Blake Baxter,
Lindisfarne,
Trumans Water,
Stiv Bators,
The Buckinghams,
Man Parrish,
Lou Christie,
Barrington Levy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wings,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Görl,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Brass Construction,
Steve Hackett,
Chris Corsano,
Goldenarms,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Mills,
Wolf Eyes,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Move,
The Count Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Johnny Clarke,
Lungfish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Porter Ricks,
Thompson Twins,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
David Axelrod,
Wasted Youth,
Warren Ellis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.