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 Spain and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Grass Roots to the jazz 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fortunes,
Derrick Morgan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Pretty Things,
Sparks,
The Slackers,
Moby Grape,
Quando Quango,
Monolake,
Scientists,
Glenn Branca,
Sam Rivers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brothers Johnson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Symarip,
Funky Four + One,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
Soul II Soul,
Joensuu 1685,
Boredoms,
The Divine Comedy,
Stetsasonic,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Tropical Tobacco,
Albert Ayler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Aaron Thompson,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
Ponytail,
The Zeros,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Stooges,
Panda Bear,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yusef Lateef,
Neu!,
Patti Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed,
Camouflage,
Stiv Bators,
Nico,
Ultravox,
Sixth Finger,
Joey Negro,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.