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 Gambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 Dark Day to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Pylon,
Moebius,
Chrome,
Deepchord,
Mandrill,
The Moody Blues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Flipper,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Lynne,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Pantytec,
Connie Case,
The Black Dice,
Loose Ends,
The Dead C,
the Germs,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Sherman,
Mark Hollis,
Susan Cadogan,
MDC,
Howard Jones,
Cybotron,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Ludus,
Circle Jerks,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agitation Free,
Fad Gadget,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tim Buckley,
X-101,
Brass Construction,
Black Flag,
Pierre Henry,
Minor Threat,
Fela Kuti,
Scan 7,
The Fall,
Danielle Patucci,
China Crisis,
Reagan Youth,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Ponytail,
Isaac Hayes,
JFA,
Das Ding,
UT,
Don Cherry,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.