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 Nepal and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Saints,
The Vogues,
Sister Nancy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sugar Minott,
The Moody Blues,
Deepchord,
Joensuu 1685,
The J.B.'s,
Tommy Roe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rapeman,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
Neu!,
The Raincoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Model 500,
The Last Poets,
Television,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cameo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monks,
The Doors,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deadbeat,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Lynne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Near,
Malaria!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Moleskins,
Country Teasers,
U.S. Maple,
The Black Dice,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Schoolly D,
The Smiths,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thompson Twins,
cv313,
AZ,
The Techniques,
Animal Collective,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.