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 Ghana and from Taipei.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Quando Quango to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Mantronix,
Hot Snakes,
In Retrospect,
The Motions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Bob Dylan,
Wings,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Heaven 17,
La Düsseldorf,
Patti Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
U.S. Maple,
Skriet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Niagra,
Television Personalities,
The Standells,
Index,
Mad Mike,
Tears for Fears,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Leonard Cohen,
Shuggie Otis,
ABBA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
R.M.O.,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
Bootsy Collins,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
Spandau Ballet,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
Inner City,
Ronnie Foster,
Nils Olav,
Suicide,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Angels of Light,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
Bluetip,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joensuu 1685,
Marvin Gaye,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.