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 Ethiopia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angry Samoans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
La Düsseldorf,
Section 25,
The Wake,
Kaleidoscope,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Offenders,
The Fuzztones,
Slick Rick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dark Day,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
Arab on Radar,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Young Rascals,
The Durutti Column,
Toni Rubio,
Yazoo,
Technova,
Flipper,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reuben Wilson,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Albert Ayler,
48th St. Collective,
Sun City Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Massinfluence,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gap Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Freddie Wadling,
Dawn Penn,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
The Techniques,
Niagra,
Lalann,
Accadde A,
Amazonics,
R.M.O.,
Eric Dolphy,
Charles Mingus,
Malaria!,
Oblivians,
The Invisible,
Nils Olav,
Soft Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
ABBA,
the Slits,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry's Kids,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.