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 Ireland and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Jacques Brel to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
X-102,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gap Band,
Derrick May,
Organ,
D'Angelo,
Marmalade,
R.M.O.,
Lungfish,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed,
Tears for Fears,
Country Teasers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crooked Eye,
Roger Hodgson,
Zapp,
The Gories,
Isaac Hayes,
Radiohead,
Massinfluence,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sound,
John Foxx,
The Victims,
Lightning Bolt,
Quantec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dark Day,
Oblivians,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
Inner City,
The Fuzztones,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Durutti Column,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare,
Mr. Review,
The Trojans,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Association,
Parry Music,
Magma,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Sarah Menescal,
Funkadelic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lakeside,
Gang of Four,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.