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 Ireland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 R.M.O. to the disco 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Angels of Light,
Harmonia,
Scrapy,
The Trojans,
Gang of Four,
Fluxion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Pierre Henry,
Cameo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mojo Men,
Scan 7,
The Beau Brummels,
Yellowson,
The Raincoats,
The Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ken Boothe,
The Red Krayola,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
Negative Approach,
Swans,
Hashim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marmalade,
Camouflage,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Almond,
Accadde A,
Lower 48,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Real Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
JFA,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Average White Band,
Mars,
Das Ding,
John Foxx,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bronski Beat,
Henry Cow,
This Heat,
a-ha,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül II,
Erykah Badu,
Ice-T,
Funky Four + One,
The Standells,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.