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 Chad and from Salvador.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jacques Brel to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Massinfluence,
Pulsallama,
The Trojans,
Cybotron,
Steve Hackett,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barry Ungar,
Negative Approach,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
The Remains,
Yellowson,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy Collins,
Theoretical Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Isaac Hayes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Robert Hood,
The Index,
Josef K,
K-Klass,
The Mummies,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Japan,
The Red Krayola,
Eli Mardock,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
FM Einheit,
Gregory Isaacs,
Agent Orange,
Rotary Connection,
The Angels of Light,
Main Source,
Royal Trux,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rufus Thomas,
Los Fastidios,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cheater Slicks,
Crime,
June of 44,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ponytail,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric Dolphy,
Monks,
The Seeds,
Liliput,
MDC,
T. Rex,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.