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 Denmark and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Smooth,
H. Thieme,
Accadde A,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fire Engines,
kango's stein massive,
Bizarre Inc.,
Von Mondo,
Newcleus,
10cc,
Soft Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
The Names,
The Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Infiniti,
June Days,
Section 25,
a-ha,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scientists,
Marine Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Barrington Levy,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
The Cramps,
The Misunderstood,
Stiv Bators,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
T.S.O.L.,
Pole,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Y Pants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Groovy Waters,
Subhumans,
Ossler,
Circle Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Yazoo,
Depeche Mode,
Supertramp,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
the Association,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Kas Product,
The Gories,
Lindisfarne,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.