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 the UAE and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Eli Mardock to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Fraelich,
Scrapy,
Soul II Soul,
The Standells,
Fugazi,
Kayak,
Intrusion,
Q65,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Hood,
Quadrant,
Zero Boys,
The United States of America,
The Music Machine,
Quantec,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
The Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mandrill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eden Ahbez,
Dark Day,
Alton Ellis,
ABC,
Moebius,
Matthew Bourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wire,
Absolute Body Control,
Slave,
The Evens,
Black Flag,
Bauhaus,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mummies,
June of 44,
The Busters,
Sparks,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cramps,
Dorothy Ashby,
David McCallum,
Los Fastidios,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Pus,
Massinfluence,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blues Magoos,
Lower 48,
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.