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 Rwanda and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Black Pus,
Angry Samoans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Laurel Aitken,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Connie Case,
DNA,
X-Ray Spex,
Bob Dylan,
Rekid,
The Dead C,
The Fortunes,
Barry Ungar,
the Germs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
Albert Ayler,
Kaleidoscope,
Make Up,
Unwound,
Theoretical Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Japan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joy Division,
The Gun Club,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Whodini,
Y Pants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kas Product,
Black Sheep,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
The Blackbyrds,
Ohio Players,
Magma,
Lakeside,
Newcleus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Buzzcocks,
Motorama,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Sneak,
Monks,
Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Franke,
E-Dancer,
Eddi Front,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sandy B,
The Grass Roots,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Axelrod,
Jeff Mills,
Letta Mbulu,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.