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 South Africa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Birthday Party to the rock 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Todd Rundgren,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aural Exciters,
Chris & Cosey,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Teasers,
Eddi Front,
Laurel Aitken,
Trumans Water,
Qualms,
Graham Central Station,
Deepchord,
Joe Smooth,
China Crisis,
The Monks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neu!,
Index,
Brass Construction,
Ponytail,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arthur Verocai,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
Peter & Gordon,
Erykah Badu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ossler,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Quantec,
Blossom Toes,
Ten City,
Danielle Patucci,
Vainqueur,
Eric Copeland,
Outsiders,
Alison Limerick,
Pulsallama,
The Alarm Clocks,
Adolescents,
Desert Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Shoche,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Chris Corsano,
DJ Sneak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pylon,
Soul Sonic Force,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suburban Knight,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dirtbombs,
Glenn Branca,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.