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 Argentina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cymande to the grime 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Bush Tetras,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Metal Thangz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barry Ungar,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glenn Branca,
Circle Jerks,
The Litter,
Echospace,
Roxette,
EPMD,
The Pop Group,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pretty Things,
Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
The Skatalites,
Black Bananas,
L. Decosne,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June of 44,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Albert Ayler,
Warren Ellis,
Arthur Verocai,
Barrington Levy,
Joey Negro,
Jacques Brel,
X-102,
Sandy B,
World's Most,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scientists,
Archie Shepp,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Arcadia,
Youth Brigade,
Blake Baxter,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mummies,
Andrew Hill,
T. Rex,
Depeche Mode,
Magazine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kenny Larkin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cymande,
Cameo,
Todd Rundgren,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.