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 Djibouti and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 U.S. Maple to the dance 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harmonia,
Ludus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Andrew Hill,
Marshall Jefferson,
Donald Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeff Mills,
The Young Rascals,
The Selecter,
Marine Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
Absolute Body Control,
Spandau Ballet,
Das Ding,
Sonny Sharrock,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
The Fortunes,
Tim Buckley,
Josef K,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soulsonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Soul II Soul,
Kayak,
Bobby Sherman,
Joy Division,
Mark Hollis,
K-Klass,
Maleditus Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Funky Four + One,
Yaz,
Don Cherry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Real Kids,
The Cowsills,
Grauzone,
Unwound,
The Blues Magoos,
John Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Gichy Dan,
Sonic Youth,
Zero Boys,
Schoolly D,
The Standells,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crash Course in Science,
Harry Pussy,
Urselle,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.