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 Portugal and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Groovy Waters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Bush Tetras,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
The Moody Blues,
Glenn Branca,
Scrapy,
Eurythmics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Supertramp,
Bobby Womack,
The Names,
Danielle Patucci,
The Durutti Column,
EPMD,
Idris Muhammad,
Excepter,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
Television,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Starr,
In Retrospect,
Icehouse,
Piero Umiliani,
Traffic Nightmare,
Agitation Free,
Theoretical Girls,
U.S. Maple,
FM Einheit,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Franke,
Intrusion,
The Litter,
Khruangbin,
Eddi Front,
The Misunderstood,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sonics,
Fugazi,
Scientists,
The Evens,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Techniques,
Black Pus,
The Modern Lovers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eli Mardock,
Janne Schatter,
Barrington Levy,
Urselle,
Brass Construction,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Dirtbombs,
Stiv Bators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.