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 Italy and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the disco 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Simply Red,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Toni Rubio,
Steve Hackett,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Ice-T,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stockholm Monsters,
Los Fastidios,
Wings,
Magma,
Spandau Ballet,
Erykah Badu,
Quantec,
Technova,
The Offenders,
Aswad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Maleditus Sound,
H. Thieme,
The Dirtbombs,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glenn Branca,
L. Decosne,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cameo,
T. Rex,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stiv Bators,
Fugazi,
Max Romeo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Terry,
Wire,
Guru Guru,
Marc Almond,
The Wake,
Smog,
E-Dancer,
Reuben Wilson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bad Manners,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Star Department,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.