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 Tanzania and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb 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 Ice-T to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
The Five Americans,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Goldenarms,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
The Associates,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
CMW,
The Remains,
The Misunderstood,
The Saints,
Maurizio,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
The American Breed,
Porter Ricks,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gories,
Camberwell Now,
The Monochrome Set,
Visage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flipper,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Qualms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Sherman,
Brand Nubian,
The Victims,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Intrusion,
Leonard Cohen,
Quantec,
The Last Poets,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Byrd,
Angry Samoans,
Danielle Patucci,
Henry Cow,
Inner City,
Wasted Youth,
Black Sheep,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rosa Yemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bluetip,
Reagan Youth,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.