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 Sweden and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Standells to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Bauhaus,
Barclay James Harvest,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Con Funk Shun,
The Litter,
Derrick May,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yaz,
Carl Craig,
The Trojans,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
In Retrospect,
L. Decosne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suicide,
Darondo,
The Five Americans,
Crime,
Eli Mardock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eden Ahbez,
Iggy Pop,
Ice-T,
Minutemen,
The Standells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bizarre Inc.,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Goldenarms,
Qualms,
Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
the Slits,
Urselle,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche,
Smog,
Cybotron,
Average White Band,
Charles Mingus,
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
The Fortunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-101,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sandy B,
Heaven 17,
Malaria!,
Barrington Levy,
Masters at Work,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.