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 Portugal and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lindisfarne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Roxette,
Oblivians,
The J.B.'s,
The Stooges,
Au Pairs,
Howard Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
Alphaville,
Dennis Brown,
Guru Guru,
Wire,
Junior Murvin,
Soulsonic Force,
Carl Craig,
Symarip,
Mark Hollis,
Tubeway Army,
T.S.O.L.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Order,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aaron Thompson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Slackers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Vladislav Delay,
Juan Atkins,
H. Thieme,
The Pretty Things,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gladiators,
Piero Umiliani,
the Sonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
The Zeros,
The Raincoats,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare,
The Walker Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
The Gun Club,
China Crisis,
Swell Maps,
Fluxion,
The Divine Comedy,
Prince Buster,
cv313,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.