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 Mali and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Darondo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Los Fastidios,
New Order,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ice-T,
Guru Guru,
Max Romeo,
Sandy B,
Robert Wyatt,
Reagan Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Prince Buster,
Mission of Burma,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Terry,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
Albert Ayler,
Arab on Radar,
The Star Department,
Public Enemy,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Halsall,
Livin' Joy,
Joe Finger,
Hoover,
The Fall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Germs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Model 500,
Peter & Gordon,
Harmonia,
Whodini,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Saccharine Trust,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
Drexciya,
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harry Pussy,
The Walker Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Patti Smith,
Tommy Roe,
The Music Machine,
Gastr Del Sol,
Goldenarms,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Derrick Morgan,
Marmalade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.