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 Namibia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Interpol to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eden Ahbez,
Interpol,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
The Skatalites,
Yazoo,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
X-102,
Television,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Desert Stars,
Magazine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Josef K,
the Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
Ken Boothe,
David Axelrod,
The Divine Comedy,
Minutemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gladiators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ludus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Faust,
Nirvana,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Finger,
Neil Young,
Swell Maps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deakin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deepchord,
Aswad,
Flipper,
Crispy Ambulance,
Accadde A,
Colin Newman,
June Days,
D'Angelo,
Easy Going,
Robert Wyatt,
Yellowson,
Patti Smith,
Zero Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.