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 Bahrain and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 The Cowsills to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eurythmics,
Silicon Teens,
Surgeon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mars,
Tim Buckley,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bob Dylan,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sonics,
The Toasters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eden Ahbez,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Accadde A,
Tommy Roe,
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Qualms,
Black Pus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Anakelly,
The Litter,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Womack,
Ponytail,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Anthony Braxton,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fluxion,
Colin Newman,
Minny Pops,
Adolescents,
Idris Muhammad,
Byron Stingily,
Royal Trux,
Ultravox,
Soft Cell,
Sparks,
Lungfish,
Moss Icon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Motorama,
Morten Harket,
Duran Duran,
The Searchers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Bananas,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.