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 Lebanon and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sister Nancy to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Average White Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
MC5,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Evens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radiohead,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rites of Spring,
Chris & Cosey,
The Wake,
Avey Tare,
The Gladiators,
Audionom,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
Stetsasonic,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
The Smoke,
Robert Hood,
Wasted Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Holt,
Slave,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
Basic Channel,
Isaac Hayes,
Circle Jerks,
Monks,
Eli Mardock,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Motorama,
Little Man,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
Mark Hollis,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker,
Gong,
Anakelly,
Amon Düül II,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Starr,
Chris Corsano,
The Black Dice,
Harmonia,
the Slits,
Franke,
Make Up,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.