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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bar-Kays to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Gang Starr,
Eurythmics,
Lou Christie,
Rites of Spring,
Moss Icon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Slits,
The Pop Group,
Talk Talk,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skriet,
Jawbox,
Mandrill,
Electric Prunes,
Scratch Acid,
The Happenings,
Funkadelic,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Soft Cell,
the Association,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
The Doors,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Foxx,
James White and The Blacks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Agent Orange,
DJ Style,
Public Image Ltd.,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Section 25,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Ronan,
Dawn Penn,
June Days,
Altered Images,
Saccharine Trust,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scion,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.