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 St Lucia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bill Near to the crunk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Gun Club,
Ronan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Funky Four + One,
Maurizio,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cameo,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suicide,
Graham Central Station,
Black Bananas,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Index,
Lower 48,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Peter and Kerry,
Althea and Donna,
John Foxx,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
10cc,
Cheater Slicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
JFA,
The Wake,
Mo-Dettes,
OOIOO,
Malaria!,
Country Teasers,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Copeland,
Pantaleimon,
Susan Cadogan,
Faraquet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
Cal Tjader,
the Fania All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gap Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Alarm Clocks,
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.