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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rap 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Byron Stingily,
La Düsseldorf,
The Monks,
Outsiders,
Lindisfarne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
China Crisis,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Zeros,
R.M.O.,
MDC,
Livin' Joy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
a-ha,
Eric Dolphy,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
Grauzone,
The Tremeloes,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Mandrill,
Lightning Bolt,
Magma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
K-Klass,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Radio Birdman,
Organ,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Lalann,
Erasure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Qualms,
The Leaves,
The Martian,
Newcleus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marmalade,
The Velvet Underground,
Morten Harket,
Jerry's Kids,
Q and Not U,
The Smiths,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quadrant,
The Fortunes,
These Immortal Souls,
Scott Walker,
The Fuzztones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.