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 Albania and from Mumbai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Easy Going to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ohio Players,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Zeros,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton,
Cameo,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
Buzzcocks,
Sun City Girls,
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Buckinghams,
Minor Threat,
Al Stewart,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jandek,
Lungfish,
Roxy Music,
Wire,
The Offenders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
the Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Eve St. Jones,
The Golliwogs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donald Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
48th St. Collective,
Adolescents,
Scrapy,
Main Source,
The Velvet Underground,
Youth Brigade,
Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Aaron Thompson,
The Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magma,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultravox,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cybotron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
In Retrospect,
The Monochrome Set,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.