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 Thailand and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Germs to the funk 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Erykah Badu,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Morten Harket,
Goldenarms,
Derrick May,
Mo-Dettes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Erasure,
The Fugs,
Sällskapet,
Funkadelic,
The Music Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Moby Grape,
Kerri Chandler,
Model 500,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
Scan 7,
F. McDonald,
DJ Style,
The Pop Group,
Black Bananas,
48th St. Collective,
Tres Demented,
Mandrill,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sight & Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
DJ Sneak,
Mark Hollis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crime,
Kenny Larkin,
The Barracudas,
One Last Wish,
Rakim,
The Sonics,
The Wake,
The Blues Magoos,
The Index,
Arcadia,
the Human League,
The Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Colin Newman,
Isaac Hayes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sugar Minott,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.