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 Poland and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Spoonie Gee to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Talk Talk,
Second Layer,
Angry Samoans,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols,
The Raincoats,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric Dolphy,
the Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Machine,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deadbeat,
Model 500,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
X-101,
The Star Department,
The Selecter,
Royal Trux,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Q65,
Procol Harum,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rekid,
Ultravox,
Dawn Penn,
Slave,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül,
Faraquet,
Nick Fraelich,
Average White Band,
Make Up,
Arthur Verocai,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
The Slackers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
The Walker Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Bob Dylan,
Agitation Free,
The Young Rascals,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.