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 Kazakhstan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Qualms to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rekid,
Au Pairs,
Carl Craig,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moss Icon,
Yazoo,
Blossom Toes,
Essential Logic,
Peter and Kerry,
OOIOO,
Half Japanese,
Y Pants,
Slick Rick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camouflage,
a-ha,
Skaos,
X-101,
10cc,
Gichy Dan,
The Vogues,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Moleskins,
Ludus,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
Monks,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fugazi,
Cecil Taylor,
Reagan Youth,
The Selecter,
Juan Atkins,
Aural Exciters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Howard Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
World's Most,
Magma,
Echospace,
Procol Harum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
The Music Machine,
Sällskapet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funky Four + One,
The Doors,
New Order,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.