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 Philippines and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin 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 Bill Near to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
Kaleidoscope,
The Doors,
Nils Olav,
Index,
Tears for Fears,
Michelle Simonal,
K-Klass,
Yazoo,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra,
Quantec,
Bad Manners,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aural Exciters,
Derrick Morgan,
DNA,
Anakelly,
The Dave Clark Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Flag,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cramps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yaz,
Panda Bear,
Cluster,
Sight & Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Leaves,
Infiniti,
Mandrill,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Hill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erykah Badu,
Bauhaus,
The Wake,
Roger Hodgson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
Qualms,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Leonard Cohen,
Morten Harket,
Circle Jerks,
Fat Boys,
Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kevin Saunderson,
June Days,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.