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 Samoa and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
Chris Corsano,
Brand Nubian,
Spandau Ballet,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nico,
Lakeside,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Flag,
Amazonics,
Sugar Minott,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Adolescents,
The Trojans,
The Mummies,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Görl,
The United States of America,
The Real Kids,
Thompson Twins,
James White and The Blacks,
Marmalade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Erasure,
The Motions,
Camberwell Now,
FM Einheit,
K-Klass,
Soul Sonic Force,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
Qualms,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris & Cosey,
Dennis Brown,
Stereo Dub,
Ossler,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Slits,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.