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 Guyana and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Holt to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic 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?
Scott Walker,
Thee Headcoats,
Steve Hackett,
The Fall,
Grey Daturas,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Easy Going,
The Toasters,
48th St. Collective,
Moss Icon,
Soft Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
The Standells,
Laurel Aitken,
Underground Resistance,
10cc,
Gang Starr,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Gichy Dan,
Smog,
Blossom Toes,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dirtbombs,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Andrew Hill,
One Last Wish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Metal Thangz,
Flash Fearless,
The Five Americans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
Fear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Susan Cadogan,
Donny Hathaway,
Mr. Review,
In Retrospect,
Sarah Menescal,
Yellowson,
The Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun City Girls,
JFA,
Mars,
Magazine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drexciya,
Flipper,
Suburban Knight,
The Red Krayola,
The Tremeloes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.