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 Morocco and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Roxette to the disco 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Average White Band,
Accadde A,
Radiohead,
Agent Orange,
Pierre Henry,
Gong,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
AZ,
Lou Christie,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
These Immortal Souls,
Joy Division,
The Happenings,
Gang Green,
Young Marble Giants,
Zero Boys,
Sonic Youth,
New Age Steppers,
Fugazi,
Derrick Morgan,
The Real Kids,
Pole,
B.T. Express,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Almond,
Scratch Acid,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scientists,
Rites of Spring,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Banda Bassotti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Evens,
Con Funk Shun,
Funkadelic,
Crash Course in Science,
Howard Jones,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Sandy B,
June of 44,
OOIOO,
The Blackbyrds,
Joe Smooth,
The Martian,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ken Boothe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Gang of Four,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.