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 Sri Lanka and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Outsiders to the rap 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
This Heat,
Bill Wells,
The Saints,
Fluxion,
Urselle,
Kerri Chandler,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aaron Thompson,
The Smiths,
Zero Boys,
Bad Manners,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Livin' Joy,
In Retrospect,
Sexual Harrassment,
Whodini,
Wasted Youth,
Pagans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Beau Brummels,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeff Lynne,
Oblivians,
Isaac Hayes,
DJ Style,
Essential Logic,
Babytalk,
Magma,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The American Breed,
Cymande,
Soul II Soul,
Susan Cadogan,
Sound Behaviour,
Juan Atkins,
Pylon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Music Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-101,
Outsiders,
The J.B.'s,
Fugazi,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
Joyce Sims,
Boredoms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Model 500,
Smog,
Terry Callier,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.