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 Mozambique and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Brothers Johnson to the rock 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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Talk Talk,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Womack,
The United States of America,
Hot Snakes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cabaret Voltaire,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Sheep,
the Association,
The Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alison Limerick,
Dawn Penn,
Crime,
The Buckinghams,
Deakin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Smooth,
Fatback Band,
The Moleskins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
Lalo Schifrin,
Von Mondo,
Nas,
Pharoah Sanders,
The J.B.'s,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
Pere Ubu,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cybotron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reuben Wilson,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Qualms,
Subhumans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marmalade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fad Gadget,
June Days,
Maleditus Sound,
Goldenarms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Los Fastidios,
The Offenders,
Fluxion,
Slick Rick,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.