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 Tanzania and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Trojans to the funk 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Bill Near,
Negative Approach,
The Knickerbockers,
Michelle Simonal,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Bar-Kays,
Sexual Harrassment,
Laurel Aitken,
the Slits,
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
Deakin,
Outsiders,
Soulsonic Force,
John Lydon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
The Motions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Young Marble Giants,
The New Christs,
The Buckinghams,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fuzztones,
Patti Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
Hoover,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
Metal Thangz,
The Evens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
FM Einheit,
Amon Düül,
Yazoo,
Royal Trux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
Erykah Badu,
Barry Ungar,
The Vogues,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cowsills,
The Zeros,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.