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 Finland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jeru the Damaja to the techno 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Andrew Hill,
Dark Day,
Sound Behaviour,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joyce Sims,
Dead Boys,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Slave,
Suicide,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funkadelic,
Faraquet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Carl Craig,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Cluster,
The Five Americans,
Altered Images,
Rekid,
Buzzcocks,
Essential Logic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Young Marble Giants,
Donny Hathaway,
Popol Vuh,
a-ha,
Ultimate Spinach,
This Heat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
Gang of Four,
Dorothy Ashby,
Iggy Pop,
Reuben Wilson,
Metal Thangz,
Siglo XX,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ten City,
Niagra,
Urselle,
The Standells,
Thompson Twins,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sam Rivers,
The Pop Group,
Subhumans,
The Associates,
The Evens,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Copeland,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.