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 Bahrain and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Moss Icon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Grandmaster Flash,
Patti Smith,
OOIOO,
Funkadelic,
Magazine,
Talk Talk,
Agitation Free,
Max Romeo,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television,
Au Pairs,
Subhumans,
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mars,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
The Evens,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-102,
Magma,
Todd Terry,
Yellowson,
Minutemen,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Index,
Black Flag,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minny Pops,
James White and The Blacks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neu!,
The Walker Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Pus,
Japan,
Heaven 17,
Lungfish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ponytail,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.