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 Switzerland and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 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 Anakelly to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The Cramps,
Eve St. Jones,
Livin' Joy,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Cameo,
the Association,
Nick Fraelich,
Lucky Dragons,
Young Marble Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Excepter,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Seeds,
Aural Exciters,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mark Hollis,
Arthur Verocai,
Connie Case,
Susan Cadogan,
Eden Ahbez,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Move,
10cc,
China Crisis,
Altered Images,
Rapeman,
The Monks,
Lalann,
Peter & Gordon,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
Bobby Sherman,
The Modern Lovers,
Thee Headcoats,
Underground Resistance,
Pagans,
Kas Product,
Alton Ellis,
The Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Reuben Wilson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Whodini,
Heaven 17,
Malaria!,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.