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 Bulgaria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Divine Comedy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Lakeside,
Ludus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Foxx,
Metal Thangz,
Panda Bear,
Oneida,
Bobby Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
The Misunderstood,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
the Human League,
Essential Logic,
Tim Buckley,
Ponytail,
Dave Gahan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lee Hazlewood,
Swans,
DJ Style,
Black Bananas,
Fugazi,
The Mojo Men,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eddi Front,
MC5,
Harry Pussy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Wyatt,
Faraquet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blossom Toes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gichy Dan,
Porter Ricks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Al Stewart,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
The Music Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Intrusion,
Boredoms,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.