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 Liechtenstein and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 electroclash 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Iggy Pop,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rod Modell,
Organ,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
Ohio Players,
The Real Kids,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sex Pistols,
Juan Atkins,
The Smoke,
EPMD,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
Bob Dylan,
The Slackers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
K-Klass,
Ronnie Foster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Red Krayola,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Susan Cadogan,
Sugar Minott,
Toni Rubio,
Desert Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
B.T. Express,
The Monks,
Davy DMX,
Chrome,
H. Thieme,
Little Man,
kango's stein massive,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
John Foxx,
The Alarm Clocks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter & Gordon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
Isaac Hayes,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.