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 Rwanda and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 David Bowie 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 Bob Dylan to the punk 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Morten Harket,
X-Ray Spex,
Howard Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cecil Taylor,
Cameo,
Letta Mbulu,
DNA,
Urselle,
the Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
E-Dancer,
Slick Rick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
Rapeman,
Ken Boothe,
the Germs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visage,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Monks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deepchord,
Agitation Free,
Pulsallama,
The Martian,
Tubeway Army,
The Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Barbara Tucker,
Magma,
The Young Rascals,
Average White Band,
John Lydon,
Ten City,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool Moe Dee,
Outsiders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q65,
Nils Olav,
Arab on Radar,
Minor Threat,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Hood,
Ronnie Foster,
Yazoo,
Peter & Gordon,
John Foxx,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
MDC,
The Monochrome Set,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.