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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Brick to the funk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
ABBA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
Alison Limerick,
Ten City,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon,
Lindisfarne,
Lakeside,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Ultra Naté,
Byron Stingily,
Fat Boys,
The Fuzztones,
The Invisible,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Prince Buster,
The Names,
The Slackers,
Darondo,
Scan 7,
James White and The Blacks,
Drexciya,
Joey Negro,
Q and Not U,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
Pylon,
Basic Channel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Inner City,
FM Einheit,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reagan Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
The Count Five,
Eden Ahbez,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
a-ha,
Newcleus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Germs,
Scientists,
Cecil Taylor,
Todd Terry,
The Dead C,
Roger Hodgson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rekid,
The Index,
Morten Harket,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.