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 Liechtenstein and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Royal Trux to the disco 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
New Order,
Warsaw,
Unrelated Segments,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
Skaos,
The Searchers,
Laurel Aitken,
48th St. Collective,
The Dead C,
Hot Snakes,
Livin' Joy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ken Boothe,
Marvin Gaye,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roger Hodgson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
MDC,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
the Swans,
Sight & Sound,
Marmalade,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Junior Murvin,
The Techniques,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skarface,
John Holt,
Sam Rivers,
Tubeway Army,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultravox,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
Pagans,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
X-101,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Siglo XX,
Rapeman,
Harmonia,
Newcleus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Kinks,
June Days,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Evens,
One Last Wish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Smiths,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.