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 Uganda and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 The Trojans to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
the Slits,
EPMD,
Sparks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
Jimmy McGriff,
Radiohead,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vladislav Delay,
Don Cherry,
FM Einheit,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crime,
Eurythmics,
Mr. Review,
Zapp,
LL Cool J,
Au Pairs,
Maurizio,
Easy Going,
Section 25,
Alice Coltrane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
T.S.O.L.,
Stiv Bators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Nico,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Grass Roots,
Kas Product,
Audionom,
Scott Walker,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tres Demented,
H. Thieme,
The Monks,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
Funky Four + One,
The Cowsills,
The Toasters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swell Maps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
Sällskapet,
Connie Case,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.