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 Antigua and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scrapy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya,
Bobby Sherman,
Youth Brigade,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
Wire,
The Sound,
Agitation Free,
Pulsallama,
Aloha Tigers,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül,
Carl Craig,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Shuggie Otis,
Simply Red,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dual Sessions,
China Crisis,
The Residents,
Deakin,
Duran Duran,
Tim Buckley,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxette,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mark Hollis,
Lungfish,
Fat Boys,
The Busters,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radio Birdman,
Minutemen,
Howard Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacob Miller,
Sam Rivers,
The Cure,
Derrick May,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Faust,
Mr. Review,
Average White Band,
Man Parrish,
Smog,
Vladislav Delay,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.