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 Haiti and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Outsiders to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
The Beau Brummels,
JFA,
Sex Pistols,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arcadia,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Gerry Rafferty,
Index,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Mills,
Pantytec,
Khruangbin,
Eric Copeland,
Grey Daturas,
Isaac Hayes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythm & Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Michelle Simonal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dawn Penn,
Idris Muhammad,
Nico,
R.M.O.,
Joe Finger,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Jimmy McGriff,
Simply Red,
Joey Negro,
Kerri Chandler,
Scientists,
Suicide,
Bill Near,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Zapp,
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cymande,
Quadrant,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Unwound,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeff Lynne,
Aloha Tigers,
Porter Ricks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
Goldenarms,
X-102,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.