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 Taiwan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dirtbombs to the techno 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Charles Mingus,
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
Easy Going,
June Days,
Yellowson,
Jacques Brel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Axelrod,
Gang Gang Dance,
Excepter,
The Modern Lovers,
Shuggie Otis,
Ronnie Foster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sex Pistols,
One Last Wish,
Don Cherry,
Schoolly D,
Peter & Gordon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
Joey Negro,
The Evens,
The Mojo Men,
Todd Rundgren,
Jawbox,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nick Fraelich,
Letta Mbulu,
Nas,
Monolake,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Porter Ricks,
The Busters,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brass Construction,
The Gories,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
Dark Day,
Jeff Lynne,
Al Stewart,
DJ Style,
Rapeman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.