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 Maldives and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Alphaville to the disco 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Sam Rivers,
Essential Logic,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
Simply Red,
Metal Thangz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flipper,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alice Coltrane,
the Human League,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lucky Dragons,
The Victims,
Idris Muhammad,
Howard Jones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bauhaus,
Radiohead,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
Yellowson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Axelrod,
DJ Sneak,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dark Day,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barrington Levy,
Dave Gahan,
The Pop Group,
Blake Baxter,
Aaron Thompson,
Subhumans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Intrusion,
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
Scientists,
Mo-Dettes,
Tommy Roe,
Surgeon,
John Cale,
Gang Starr,
A Certain Ratio,
Agitation Free,
Jacob Miller,
New Order,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.