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 Poland and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jacques Brel to the punk 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash,
E-Dancer,
Dark Day,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
48th St. Collective,
Boredoms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pylon,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Wyatt,
The Count Five,
Aaron Thompson,
The Move,
Terry Callier,
Dawn Penn,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers,
Goldenarms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
The Zeros,
Symarip,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Pus,
The Cowsills,
Rod Modell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Black Bananas,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
H. Thieme,
In Retrospect,
Maleditus Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Lynne,
Letta Mbulu,
Young Marble Giants,
Flipper,
Drive Like Jehu,
Accadde A,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.