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 Malaysia and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Zapp to the punk 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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Masters at Work,
Japan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Christie,
The Remains,
Interpol,
The Dirtbombs,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling,
Todd Rundgren,
Excepter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bob Dylan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Porter Ricks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Bananas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grauzone,
Ronan,
Bronski Beat,
Depeche Mode,
Subhumans,
H. Thieme,
Amon Düül II,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
David Bowie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Sonics,
Cluster,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smiths,
Drexciya,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hoover,
Pantytec,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Graham Central Station,
In Retrospect,
The Angels of Light,
Shoche,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric Copeland,
CMW,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Simply Red,
The Modern Lovers,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.