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 Albania and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joyce Sims to the funk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Porter Ricks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
The Wake,
Althea and Donna,
Al Stewart,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pere Ubu,
the Sonics,
Eli Mardock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express,
Erasure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
Theoretical Girls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Monks,
Second Layer,
Country Teasers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter and Kerry,
Pole,
Amon Düül,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tim Buckley,
Section 25,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Patti Smith,
Mantronix,
Bootsy Collins,
Warren Ellis,
Johnny Clarke,
Ronnie Foster,
Ludus,
Fad Gadget,
The Doors,
Arab on Radar,
The Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
The Blackbyrds,
John Cale,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Sheep,
D'Angelo,
Rakim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
Symarip,
Swell Maps,
The Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
Man Parrish,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Golliwogs,
Kaleidoscope,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.