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 Zimbabwe and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Judy Mowatt to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Radio Birdman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Supertramp,
Agitation Free,
The Leaves,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Happenings,
Von Mondo,
Alice Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lyres,
Tommy Roe,
The Dead C,
Kayak,
Yellowson,
Eurythmics,
Amazonics,
David Axelrod,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Symarip,
Mars,
Roger Hodgson,
These Immortal Souls,
Darondo,
Rapeman,
Theoretical Girls,
The Five Americans,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smiths,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Judy Mowatt,
DNA,
The Electric Prunes,
Franke,
MC5,
Robert Görl,
Spoonie Gee,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soul II Soul,
Crooked Eye,
Cymande,
Outsiders,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABBA,
Model 500,
Anthony Braxton,
The Saints,
X-Ray Spex,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Mills,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Slackers,
Negative Approach,
Ludus,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.