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 Fiji and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Con Funk Shun 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
Byron Stingily,
Eden Ahbez,
Grauzone,
LL Cool J,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alton Ellis,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rufus Thomas,
The Stooges,
The Techniques,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cymande,
Interpol,
The New Christs,
Mad Mike,
Gabor Szabo,
The Selecter,
Groovy Waters,
Masters at Work,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cure,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Beau Brummels,
the Slits,
Oneida,
Rakim,
Black Pus,
Yaz,
Alison Limerick,
The Grass Roots,
Ohio Players,
Spoonie Gee,
The Names,
Von Mondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pole,
Don Cherry,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
The Tremeloes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Divine Comedy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joy Division,
Minor Threat,
Smog,
Wasted Youth,
The Wake,
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.