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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minnie Riperton to the jazz 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Agent Orange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Excepter,
Camberwell Now,
The Gories,
U.S. Maple,
Jandek,
Pere Ubu,
Freddie Wadling,
Television,
KRS-One,
Khruangbin,
Sixth Finger,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moby Grape,
Smog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Standells,
Livin' Joy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Byron Stingily,
Ultra Naté,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joy Division,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shuggie Otis,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Moss Icon,
Andrew Hill,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Grass Roots,
Ponytail,
Fat Boys,
Pulsallama,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chrome,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sound,
The Remains,
Gastr Del Sol,
Easy Going,
Black Sheep,
the Slits,
Gong,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-102,
The Cowsills,
Shoche,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.