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 Georgia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Livin' Joy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
The Victims,
Liliput,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Althea and Donna,
Fatback Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
The Martian,
Tom Boy,
Patti Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Organ,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Lydon,
Visage,
Barrington Levy,
Goldenarms,
Unwound,
Jacob Miller,
The Wake,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
Johnny Clarke,
La Düsseldorf,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Barracudas,
Scion,
Gong,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Clear Light,
The Dirtbombs,
This Heat,
Duran Duran,
the Association,
Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
Das Ding,
Ronnie Foster,
The Blackbyrds,
Lightning Bolt,
Letta Mbulu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faust,
Inner City,
Moebius,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.