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 Montenegro and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Cymande to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Fluxion,
The Fall,
Camouflage,
Eric B and Rakim,
F. McDonald,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerri Chandler,
Scientists,
Anakelly,
Rites of Spring,
Magma,
Letta Mbulu,
Deadbeat,
Oblivians,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Blake Baxter,
Severed Heads,
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Vainqueur,
Althea and Donna,
H. Thieme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Yellowson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Music Machine,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yazoo,
Byron Stingily,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Basic Channel,
Nik Kershaw,
Howard Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Crime,
Symarip,
Moss Icon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Young Marble Giants,
Depeche Mode,
Joe Smooth,
The Barracudas,
Wolf Eyes,
The Young Rascals,
The Stooges,
Malaria!,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.