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 Luxembourg and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soulsonic Force to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liliput,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neu!,
Wasted Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
H. Thieme,
Wings,
Boredoms,
Freddie Wadling,
Warsaw,
Supertramp,
Rosa Yemen,
EPMD,
Nico,
Pylon,
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Golliwogs,
Blancmange,
The Buckinghams,
Interpol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Isaac Hayes,
The Dirtbombs,
Hashim,
Minny Pops,
Alison Limerick,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Hot Snakes,
Swell Maps,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
Tim Buckley,
Essential Logic,
Pierre Henry,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
Eurythmics,
New Age Steppers,
The Divine Comedy,
Angry Samoans,
Ornette Coleman,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Sonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Delta 5,
Scratch Acid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
David McCallum,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joe Finger,
Y Pants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Tremeloes,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.