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 Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 The Gap Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Harry Pussy,
Aswad,
Warsaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Arab on Radar,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mark Hollis,
The Durutti Column,
Tom Boy,
Crime,
Lyres,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moleskins,
Half Japanese,
the Slits,
The Offenders,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Moon,
Cluster,
Eurythmics,
The United States of America,
Rotary Connection,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
The Kinks,
Aural Exciters,
Monks,
Ohio Players,
Duran Duran,
Grey Daturas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
Angry Samoans,
Joensuu 1685,
Josef K,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fortunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Al Stewart,
Jandek,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alice Coltrane,
Royal Trux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
Goldenarms,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dave Gahan,
Young Marble Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.