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 Antigua and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Sexual Harrassment 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
F. McDonald,
Bill Near,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Hutcherson,
a-ha,
T. Rex,
Angry Samoans,
Young Marble Giants,
E-Dancer,
Essential Logic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Warsaw,
Sällskapet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alphaville,
The Stooges,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lindisfarne,
Smog,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ornette Coleman,
Gabor Szabo,
Skarface,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eve St. Jones,
Nils Olav,
Erykah Badu,
Excepter,
Wire,
The Golliwogs,
New York Dolls,
The Modern Lovers,
Japan,
Simply Red,
The Move,
Peter and Kerry,
Babytalk,
The Count Five,
Tim Buckley,
Deadbeat,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Cale,
The Happenings,
Robert Hood,
Brick,
Chris Corsano,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Names,
Man Parrish,
Masters at Work,
Cal Tjader,
Unwound,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.