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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Agent Orange to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yaz,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
Anakelly,
Donald Byrd,
Can,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
The Modern Lovers,
DJ Sneak,
The Golliwogs,
Camouflage,
Iggy Pop,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Underground Resistance,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
Lungfish,
Panda Bear,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magazine,
ABBA,
The Stooges,
Rakim,
The Searchers,
Gang of Four,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blues Magoos,
Sexual Harrassment,
kango's stein massive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Girls At Our Best!,
James White and The Blacks,
Gichy Dan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Human League,
The Moleskins,
Erasure,
Lou Christie,
Lakeside,
Peter and Kerry,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aswad,
Make Up,
Silicon Teens,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ponytail,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.