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 Ivory Coast and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bush Tetras to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
Joy Division,
Warsaw,
Pantytec,
Gabor Szabo,
The Techniques,
The American Breed,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cluster,
Loose Ends,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lungfish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Star Department,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
David Bowie,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Organ,
Mad Mike,
Marcia Griffiths,
China Crisis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marmalade,
Nick Fraelich,
Funky Four + One,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
The Pretty Things,
X-Ray Spex,
Stereo Dub,
Sparks,
Rekid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ossler,
Main Source,
Interpol,
The Monochrome Set,
The Residents,
Gichy Dan,
Gong,
Prince Buster,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Golliwogs,
New Order,
Joe Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
Carl Craig,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Masters at Work,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.