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 Spain 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the dance 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
T.S.O.L.,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Eli Mardock,
Kurtis Blow,
Maleditus Sound,
Prince Buster,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
DNA,
Skarface,
the Germs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
These Immortal Souls,
Wolf Eyes,
Kaleidoscope,
Scan 7,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Los Fastidios,
Donny Hathaway,
Clear Light,
Black Bananas,
The Beau Brummels,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suburban Knight,
Cheater Slicks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pole,
The Saints,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Godley & Creme,
Gichy Dan,
Little Man,
Pagans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Mighty Diamonds,
Byron Stingily,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Normal,
UT,
The Moody Blues,
The Move,
Young Marble Giants,
U.S. Maple,
Eve St. Jones,
Quantec,
Gang Green,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Wasted Youth,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.