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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 F. McDonald to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Green,
Scan 7,
Laurel Aitken,
Piero Umiliani,
Neu!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scrapy,
The Fugs,
Lakeside,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Last Poets,
Brick,
Black Bananas,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Schoolly D,
Soulsonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fuzztones,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
CMW,
Roxy Music,
X-102,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fatback Band,
Ronnie Foster,
10cc,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jawbox,
Ohio Players,
Rufus Thomas,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
Mary Jane Girls,
Todd Terry,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zero Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Henry Cow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.