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 Mongolia 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Bush Tetras,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Selecter,
the Swans,
Derrick May,
The Tremeloes,
Kurtis Blow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aswad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Lynne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roger Hodgson,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Clarke,
Mantronix,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Monks,
Agitation Free,
B.T. Express,
The Modern Lovers,
Kenny Larkin,
K-Klass,
The Misunderstood,
Sugar Minott,
Piero Umiliani,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
the Association,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Count Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
The Kinks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Boz Scaggs,
Reuben Wilson,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Techniques,
Angry Samoans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Faust,
Minnie Riperton,
Stockholm Monsters,
Au Pairs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nils Olav,
Ralphi Rosario,
FM Einheit,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.