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 Zambia and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 The Martian to the punk 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Joy Division,
FM Einheit,
Surgeon,
Sugar Minott,
La Düsseldorf,
Funkadelic,
Gang Starr,
Eden Ahbez,
Robert Hood,
Brand Nubian,
DJ Style,
The Gladiators,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
The Searchers,
Man Parrish,
Clear Light,
The Divine Comedy,
Rotary Connection,
K-Klass,
Marshall Jefferson,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yaz,
the Swans,
The Evens,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Christie,
Easy Going,
Barrington Levy,
The Stooges,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Bad Manners,
Nirvana,
Lou Reed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cramps,
The Count Five,
Sound Behaviour,
Popol Vuh,
Patti Smith,
China Crisis,
Ornette Coleman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harry Pussy,
Fugazi,
Cameo,
48th St. Collective,
Isaac Hayes,
Flash Fearless,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells,
The Wake,
John Foxx,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.