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 Kiribati and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
The Golliwogs,
The Beau Brummels,
Howard Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lower 48,
The Offenders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Teasers,
kango's stein massive,
E-Dancer,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacques Brel,
The Techniques,
the Slits,
Todd Rundgren,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joey Negro,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Smog,
Peter & Gordon,
Mo-Dettes,
Fatback Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Thompson Twins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neu!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun City Girls,
Public Enemy,
The Slackers,
Dave Gahan,
MDC,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
EPMD,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Bananas,
The Sonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra,
The Buckinghams,
Simply Red,
Arab on Radar,
Porter Ricks,
Roxette,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
Lalann,
Rod Modell,
DNA,
Colin Newman,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.