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 Pakistan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Alice Coltrane to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Bourne,
Flipper,
The Mummies,
Skaos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter and Kerry,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
Livin' Joy,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nico,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Main Source,
The Gories,
The Victims,
Lindisfarne,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fortunes,
John Holt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Icehouse,
One Last Wish,
Ultra Naté,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cure,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Byron Stingily,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
The Wake,
Simply Red,
Bush Tetras,
Alphaville,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
David Axelrod,
Eddi Front,
Maleditus Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Suburban Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kayak,
Echospace,
The New Christs,
AZ,
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
Deepchord,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.