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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
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 rhodes 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grunge 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Basic Channel,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach,
The Gories,
K-Klass,
Jeru the Damaja,
DJ Sneak,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Associates,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Fugazi,
Scan 7,
One Last Wish,
Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
Dennis Brown,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
The Angels of Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alice Coltrane,
Motorama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agent Orange,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tubeway Army,
Ronan,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
Subhumans,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Near,
Young Marble Giants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Techniques,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terry Callier,
The Durutti Column,
Rod Modell,
The Names,
Second Layer,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.