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 Congo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
the Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ice-T,
Khruangbin,
Dave Gahan,
Freddie Wadling,
Dennis Brown,
X-Ray Spex,
Yaz,
Bob Dylan,
the Association,
Monolake,
Neu!,
Crash Course in Science,
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
The Names,
Cecil Taylor,
Sparks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Neon Judgement,
Y Pants,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rekid,
Nico,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yazoo,
Con Funk Shun,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Clarke,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Excepter,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
Bronski Beat,
Niagra,
the Bar-Kays,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Josef K,
Bad Manners,
Scientists,
DJ Style,
Harmonia,
Slave,
The Techniques,
Sight & Sound,
The Searchers,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.