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 Argentina and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Fela Kuti to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Maurizio,
Con Funk Shun,
Sex Pistols,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Cale,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Intrusion,
Altered Images,
The Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Make Up,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Von Mondo,
Tears for Fears,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joe Finger,
Anthony Braxton,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang On A Can,
New Order,
Cameo,
JFA,
the Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Aural Exciters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
R.M.O.,
Quantec,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
Crooked Eye,
Blake Baxter,
Basic Channel,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cure,
Byron Stingily,
The Martian,
CMW,
Freddie Wadling,
Agent Orange,
Supertramp,
The United States of America,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
Model 500,
Underground Resistance,
Pantaleimon,
Grey Daturas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Organ,
Funkadelic,
Gang Green,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Mills,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.