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 Jamaica and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grime 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
Marvin Gaye,
Y Pants,
Don Cherry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brass Construction,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
Lower 48,
The Gun Club,
The Martian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bob Dylan,
Lakeside,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Judy Mowatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Arab on Radar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pylon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Japan,
La Düsseldorf,
Nico,
Letta Mbulu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Delon & Dalcan,
Morten Harket,
Schoolly D,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Fraelich,
The Golliwogs,
a-ha,
Young Marble Giants,
Interpol,
DJ Style,
Underground Resistance,
Roxette,
Gang Starr,
Flamin' Groovies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sex Pistols,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Juan Atkins,
Youth Brigade,
Supertramp,
Can,
Kayak,
Cheater Slicks,
Quadrant,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.