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 France and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Michelle Simonal to the dance 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Mantronix,
Spandau Ballet,
The Searchers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New York Dolls,
Alison Limerick,
The Misunderstood,
The Selecter,
Tears for Fears,
Flash Fearless,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth,
Maurizio,
Au Pairs,
Buzzcocks,
Goldenarms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Average White Band,
Loose Ends,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
Icehouse,
Television,
The Busters,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yellowson,
The Trojans,
Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Los Fastidios,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mo-Dettes,
The Five Americans,
Stiv Bators,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-101,
Crooked Eye,
Alton Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Nils Olav,
Surgeon,
Camouflage,
Marvin Gaye,
Patti Smith,
The Zeros,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.