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 Iran and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Jerry's Kids to the funk 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Cure,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cramps,
Neil Young,
The Blackbyrds,
Siglo XX,
Godley & Creme,
Pantytec,
Panda Bear,
Minny Pops,
Graham Central Station,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
Popol Vuh,
The Techniques,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Amazonics,
June Days,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
Idris Muhammad,
Nas,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
The Offenders,
Main Source,
Slick Rick,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultravox,
Unrelated Segments,
Barbara Tucker,
Subhumans,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine,
Underground Resistance,
Dual Sessions,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
Kenny Larkin,
The Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
John Holt,
The Gap Band,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Audionom,
Eve St. Jones,
Reagan Youth,
Au Pairs,
ABC,
Nils Olav,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vladislav Delay,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.