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 Fiji and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dawn Penn to the electroclash 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
The Electric Prunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry's Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Judy Mowatt,
Yellowson,
Smog,
Joey Negro,
Vainqueur,
Chris & Cosey,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Morten Harket,
The Moleskins,
Isaac Hayes,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Christie,
Symarip,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Warren Ellis,
Black Bananas,
Goldenarms,
The Trojans,
The Vogues,
Flipper,
Rod Modell,
Moebius,
Carl Craig,
Unwound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Leonard Cohen,
the Germs,
Robert Görl,
Grey Daturas,
X-Ray Spex,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Pulsallama,
Flash Fearless,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
H. Thieme,
Ituana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bob Dylan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Susan Cadogan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deepchord,
Gichy Dan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.