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 Croatia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 David Bowie 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 This Heat to the disco 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joe Smooth,
Au Pairs,
Flipper,
Amazonics,
Crash Course in Science,
The Happenings,
Yusef Lateef,
L. Decosne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mandrill,
Suburban Knight,
Lyres,
Gichy Dan,
MC5,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
H. Thieme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harry Pussy,
Camouflage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers,
The United States of America,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Duran Duran,
Pere Ubu,
Stetsasonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Doobie Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Cal Tjader,
Shoche,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Germs,
Goldenarms,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Green,
The Gap Band,
The Red Krayola,
Ultravox,
The Standells,
The Moleskins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronan,
Dual Sessions,
the Normal,
Joy Division,
Clear Light,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.