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 Egypt and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 UT to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül,
The Last Poets,
Buzzcocks,
The Toasters,
Gang of Four,
Terry Callier,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fortunes,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective,
the Normal,
Y Pants,
The Standells,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Cal Tjader,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nils Olav,
Eric Copeland,
Amazonics,
Q65,
Nirvana,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shoche,
Eurythmics,
Stetsasonic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Music Machine,
Joy Division,
Subhumans,
Soft Cell,
Marvin Gaye,
Cheater Slicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Grey Daturas,
Das Ding,
Wings,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-102,
Deadbeat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Names,
Eric B and Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
John Holt,
Faraquet,
Sight & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
PIL,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.