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 Mexico and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Roger Hodgson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Janne Schatter,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
Rekid,
Wolf Eyes,
Derrick May,
Ossler,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The J.B.'s,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Monks,
Junior Murvin,
Country Teasers,
the Swans,
the Slits,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Radiohead,
Brick,
These Immortal Souls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
Faraquet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tim Buckley,
Icehouse,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jerry's Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deepchord,
Dual Sessions,
Sister Nancy,
Kenny Larkin,
Ituana,
a-ha,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amon Düül II,
Alice Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
Schoolly D,
The Victims,
Stetsasonic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul II Soul,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.