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 El Salvador and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 A Certain Ratio to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Selecter,
The Blues Magoos,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skarface,
Lalann,
Brass Construction,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Clarke,
Gong,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
The Fortunes,
The Fall,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
The Index,
Steve Hackett,
Royal Trux,
Judy Mowatt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June of 44,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rapeman,
The Cowsills,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Almond,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
Leonard Cohen,
The Angels of Light,
The Modern Lovers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drive Like Jehu,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Zapp,
Moebius,
Isaac Hayes,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Star Department,
Pylon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Make Up,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans,
the Germs,
OOIOO,
Altered Images,
Tim Buckley,
DNA,
ABBA,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.