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 Oman and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Infiniti to the grunge 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Rosa Yemen,
John Cale,
MC5,
Index,
The Offenders,
Fluxion,
The Busters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scott Walker,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Slits,
Chris Corsano,
Pharoah Sanders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fuzztones,
Nik Kershaw,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
The Motions,
Spoonie Gee,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soft Cell,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang of Four,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cymande,
Easy Going,
Bill Near,
Main Source,
Lalann,
Make Up,
H. Thieme,
Susan Cadogan,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deakin,
The J.B.'s,
Pere Ubu,
Matthew Bourne,
Angry Samoans,
Wire,
Q and Not U,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nick Fraelich,
Sarah Menescal,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Connie Case,
Sugar Minott,
Glenn Branca,
Fat Boys,
The Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
Erykah Badu,
Morten Harket,
Traffic Nightmare,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.