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 Bulgaria and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sugar Minott to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Moon,
Whodini,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül,
Oblivians,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Godley & Creme,
Technova,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
Duran Duran,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Maurizio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gladiators,
The Trojans,
the Human League,
Symarip,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
These Immortal Souls,
Silicon Teens,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Skatalites,
Kaleidoscope,
The Doors,
The Invisible,
Make Up,
Scientists,
Average White Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scott Walker,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Charles Mingus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Golliwogs,
Piero Umiliani,
the Sonics,
Suicide,
Kenny Larkin,
Heaven 17,
DNA,
The Pretty Things,
the Normal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
The Gap Band,
Television Personalities,
The Knickerbockers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cal Tjader,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.