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 Qatar and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Whodini to the funk 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
H. Thieme,
Erasure,
Television,
the Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rakim,
Black Sheep,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
Essential Logic,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Thompson Twins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skaos,
Inner City,
10cc,
Robert Wyatt,
the Swans,
Marine Girls,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
Nils Olav,
Au Pairs,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultravox,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Christie,
The Skatalites,
Yellowson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Second Layer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New Order,
Susan Cadogan,
Rufus Thomas,
Donald Byrd,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Axelrod,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cecil Taylor,
Quadrant,
Oblivians,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Basic Channel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
Circle Jerks,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.