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 Czech Republic and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Y Pants to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Mars,
Simply Red,
David Bowie,
Urselle,
Sparks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Clarke,
Gichy Dan,
Eddi Front,
Masters at Work,
Crime,
Angry Samoans,
T. Rex,
The Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
Joe Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Deadbeat,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonny Sharrock,
Young Marble Giants,
Scion,
Blancmange,
Mandrill,
Pulsallama,
Kerri Chandler,
Smog,
Pagans,
Dave Gahan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
Josef K,
Alice Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scan 7,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kayak,
LL Cool J,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
World's Most,
Graham Central Station,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barbara Tucker,
Darondo,
Matthew Bourne,
Fatback Band,
Technova,
Roxette,
New Age Steppers,
Funky Four + One,
Black Flag,
Bad Manners,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.