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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Yusef Lateef to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dual Sessions,
Goldenarms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter & Gordon,
kango's stein massive,
Grauzone,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Metal Thangz,
Ten City,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Raincoats,
Tears for Fears,
Ice-T,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Chrome,
Sällskapet,
Wire,
The Move,
Pierre Henry,
Erykah Badu,
Half Japanese,
Lightning Bolt,
LL Cool J,
Stiv Bators,
Quando Quango,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Albert Ayler,
Aaron Thompson,
One Last Wish,
Severed Heads,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cramps,
Patti Smith,
The Fall,
Mission of Burma,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
The Fortunes,
Gang of Four,
Marc Almond,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Visage,
Malaria!,
E-Dancer,
The United States of America,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
Roxette,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.