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 Montenegro and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Porter Ricks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas 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?
Sister Nancy,
Monks,
a-ha,
Isaac Hayes,
Altered Images,
Eddi Front,
Bronski Beat,
Sugar Minott,
The Dirtbombs,
The Last Poets,
Simply Red,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vainqueur,
The Motions,
Slick Rick,
The Fugs,
Negative Approach,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fuzztones,
Todd Terry,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Moon,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Byrd,
Quadrant,
Stiv Bators,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agent Orange,
One Last Wish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Eurythmics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soft Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Reagan Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Funkadelic,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young,
The Busters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pussy Galore,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Man Parrish,
Skarface,
Danielle Patucci,
Deadbeat,
James White and The Blacks,
Basic Channel,
Japan,
kango's stein massive,
Talk Talk,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.