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 Slovenia and from New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Depeche Mode to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Almond,
Marmalade,
The Remains,
Masters at Work,
Fluxion,
Isaac Hayes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lucky Dragons,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fugazi,
Marvin Gaye,
Average White Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wally Richardson,
Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
Eric Dolphy,
DNA,
Wolf Eyes,
Don Cherry,
The Searchers,
Robert Görl,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Steve Hackett,
Bang On A Can,
Qualms,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sixth Finger,
L. Decosne,
Audionom,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cramps,
Spoonie Gee,
Con Funk Shun,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Five Americans,
The Neon Judgement,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Green,
Tres Demented,
Brand Nubian,
Mr. Review,
Todd Rundgren,
Oblivians,
Arthur Verocai,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.