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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Janne Schatter to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Lyres,
The Cramps,
Cybotron,
The Skatalites,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Seeds,
Monks,
Gong,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
The Electric Prunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Radiopuhelimet,
a-ha,
Eli Mardock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
John Lydon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
Pole,
Bobby Sherman,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rod Modell,
The Doors,
The Kinks,
Moss Icon,
Connie Case,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
B.T. Express,
The Leaves,
The Doobie Brothers,
Urselle,
Wings,
Surgeon,
Television Personalities,
Oneida,
John Cale,
Al Stewart,
The Raincoats,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Sheep,
Technova,
Tears for Fears,
Toni Rubio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.