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 Panama and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Donald Fagen 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 Human League to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
The Gladiators,
The Pop Group,
The Neon Judgement,
John Cale,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lower 48,
Bob Dylan,
John Lydon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
Symarip,
T. Rex,
Minnie Riperton,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
Con Funk Shun,
Nik Kershaw,
LL Cool J,
Soul II Soul,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers,
Neil Young,
Visage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Sheep,
Derrick May,
The Move,
cv313,
Godley & Creme,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Real Kids,
Goldenarms,
Marc Almond,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blake Baxter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
The Smoke,
Roxy Music,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deakin,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.