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 Accra.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 The Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Marc Almond,
Warren Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Wake,
Derrick Morgan,
Guru Guru,
Minor Threat,
Barrington Levy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Fat Boys,
Quantec,
Visage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donald Byrd,
Boredoms,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Görl,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Maurizio,
Rekid,
The Raincoats,
Ken Boothe,
Toni Rubio,
Loose Ends,
H. Thieme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Sherman,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
the Swans,
The Velvet Underground,
Lalann,
Little Man,
Whodini,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Max Romeo,
The Associates,
Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
Ituana,
Television,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lower 48,
the Normal,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Marmalade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scion,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.