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 Uzbekistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Byrd to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gories,
Au Pairs,
Roger Hodgson,
Boredoms,
Rod Modell,
UT,
Jerry's Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Hill,
Niagra,
Essential Logic,
Basic Channel,
Moss Icon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flash Fearless,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
Sex Pistols,
Boz Scaggs,
Donald Byrd,
PIL,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Near,
Joyce Sims,
The Zeros,
The Young Rascals,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Simply Red,
Agent Orange,
Radio Birdman,
Mars,
10cc,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
The Cowsills,
Fugazi,
Delon & Dalcan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Guru Guru,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mummies,
Unrelated Segments,
Amon Düül,
The Electric Prunes,
Schoolly D,
Minnie Riperton,
The Birthday Party,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Associates,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.