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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Letta Mbulu to the rap 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Wally Richardson,
The Golliwogs,
Outsiders,
Bauhaus,
EPMD,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alphaville,
Nas,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
Model 500,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun City Girls,
Au Pairs,
Severed Heads,
Joensuu 1685,
Terry Callier,
Infiniti,
Faraquet,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxette,
Maleditus Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Charles Mingus,
Kas Product,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Symarip,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sällskapet,
Gabor Szabo,
Royal Trux,
Tears for Fears,
Thee Headcoats,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
Ornette Coleman,
New York Dolls,
X-101,
DJ Sneak,
Jandek,
The Misunderstood,
Alton Ellis,
Lucky Dragons,
Tommy Roe,
Black Bananas,
Carl Craig,
Porter Ricks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Neil Young,
Spandau Ballet,
The Star Department,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rotary Connection,
Graham Central Station,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fatback Band,
Wire,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.