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 Switzerland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 Fat Boys to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ronnie Foster,
The Stooges,
Idris Muhammad,
Cymande,
Yellowson,
Crash Course in Science,
Swell Maps,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alphaville,
Visage,
DJ Style,
The Beau Brummels,
Moebius,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Make Up,
Hashim,
ABBA,
Oblivians,
Fluxion,
Metal Thangz,
Yazoo,
Young Marble Giants,
Angry Samoans,
The Birthday Party,
Japan,
Circle Jerks,
Unwound,
OOIOO,
Lebanon Hanover,
Malaria!,
Half Japanese,
John Foxx,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deepchord,
Von Mondo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Reed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suicide,
Scratch Acid,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nico,
Mary Jane Girls,
Goldenarms,
Mr. Review,
Black Pus,
Minor Threat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Morten Harket,
John Holt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
Khruangbin,
Nirvana,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.