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 Ukraine and from Cairo.
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 Bremen and Calgary.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 kango's stein massive to the grime 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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
the Germs,
The Fall,
Neu!,
Swell Maps,
Blake Baxter,
Aswad,
Tomorrow,
Motorama,
MC5,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Subhumans,
Circle Jerks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flash Fearless,
Max Romeo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Juan Atkins,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
Masters at Work,
Hot Snakes,
Animal Collective,
Black Bananas,
Thompson Twins,
Joey Negro,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Holt,
These Immortal Souls,
The Litter,
Schoolly D,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
48th St. Collective,
Skaos,
Avey Tare,
Bluetip,
Sunsets and Hearts,
8 Eyed Spy,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Spoonie Gee,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
Adolescents,
Harpers Bizarre,
Procol Harum,
Sonic Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wings,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harry Pussy,
Quantec,
Cheater Slicks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.