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 Syria and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 June of 44 to the jazz 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Soft Cell,
Monks,
Procol Harum,
Ituana,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Bar-Kays,
The Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camberwell Now,
Rakim,
The Human League,
Young Marble Giants,
kango's stein massive,
The Knickerbockers,
MDC,
Yusef Lateef,
Main Source,
Half Japanese,
Michelle Simonal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
The Red Krayola,
ABC,
Television Personalities,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
The Litter,
Neu!,
The Divine Comedy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Lucky Dragons,
Arthur Verocai,
Mo-Dettes,
Tommy Roe,
Underground Resistance,
PIL,
The Cowsills,
Talk Talk,
D'Angelo,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
a-ha,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.