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 Angola and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the funk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Görl,
Ultravox,
Underground Resistance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Fear,
Eric Copeland,
The Cramps,
ABBA,
Brass Construction,
Lindisfarne,
The Invisible,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doors,
Moby Grape,
Fugazi,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Popol Vuh,
Minor Threat,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
AZ,
John Holt,
The Mojo Men,
Trumans Water,
Bob Dylan,
Boz Scaggs,
Saccharine Trust,
Depeche Mode,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Angels of Light,
The Star Department,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
Infiniti,
The Five Americans,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra,
Junior Murvin,
Peter & Gordon,
Skriet,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moss Icon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
Index,
Blancmange,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
CMW,
Sun City Girls,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.