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 Slovenia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Zero Boys,
Duran Duran,
Bauhaus,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Görl,
China Crisis,
Brand Nubian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Visage,
Electric Prunes,
Oneida,
Scratch Acid,
Tres Demented,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Infiniti,
Wings,
Thee Headcoats,
Ten City,
Todd Rundgren,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
Agent Orange,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
New York Dolls,
B.T. Express,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Metal Thangz,
X-102,
DNA,
Procol Harum,
Ultra Naté,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barbara Tucker,
Moby Grape,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Young Rascals,
Das Ding,
Ice-T,
Funky Four + One,
Sparks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slackers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Susan Cadogan,
Sugar Minott,
Country Joe & The Fish,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.