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 Argentina and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Zero Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Faust,
Monks,
Camouflage,
OOIOO,
Sister Nancy,
Judy Mowatt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Archie Shepp,
John Holt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dead C,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash,
Model 500,
Terry Callier,
Cal Tjader,
Sun City Girls,
Das Ding,
The Blues Magoos,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sixth Finger,
Little Man,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Green,
Mad Mike,
Ponytail,
The Seeds,
The Zeros,
Andrew Hill,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ludus,
Negative Approach,
The Gories,
Eli Mardock,
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Depeche Mode,
The Leaves,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
Rufus Thomas,
Crooked Eye,
The Offenders,
Eurythmics,
Tubeway Army,
F. McDonald,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alphaville,
a-ha,
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Stetsasonic,
Bill Wells,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.