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 Lesotho and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
the Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wally Richardson,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Skarface,
Monks,
Don Cherry,
Man Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Lindisfarne,
Erasure,
Sparks,
Darondo,
Schoolly D,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris Corsano,
Basic Channel,
The Residents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Divine Comedy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mission of Burma,
Talk Talk,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
Blancmange,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monochrome Set,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
Brothers Johnson,
Altered Images,
The Associates,
Quantec,
Pulsallama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
The Durutti Column,
Make Up,
Max Romeo,
48th St. Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Buzzcocks,
Donald Byrd,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Excepter,
X-101,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Janne Schatter,
Faraquet,
Cluster,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Average White Band,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.