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 Haiti and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Main Source 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minutemen,
Alison Limerick,
Porter Ricks,
Wings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hoover,
Joe Finger,
Duran Duran,
X-101,
New Order,
The Star Department,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Mandrill,
the Human League,
New York Dolls,
Soft Machine,
Donald Byrd,
The Busters,
Josef K,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aural Exciters,
Kaleidoscope,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
Dead Boys,
Oneida,
The Birthday Party,
Magma,
Grauzone,
Yaz,
Howard Jones,
David Bowie,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fire Engines,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
FM Einheit,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Blake Baxter,
Funky Four + One,
Vainqueur,
Groovy Waters,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Drive Like Jehu,
kango's stein massive,
Unrelated Segments,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.