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 Italy and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Evens to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
L. Decosne,
Deepchord,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boredoms,
Neil Young,
DJ Sneak,
The Blackbyrds,
Reuben Wilson,
Faust,
Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Josef K,
Thee Headcoats,
Pagans,
Crooked Eye,
Urselle,
Dark Day,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
The Golliwogs,
Sarah Menescal,
F. McDonald,
Slick Rick,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zero Boys,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Franke,
Minny Pops,
Scrapy,
Byron Stingily,
Wire,
Pantytec,
Wasted Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Harmonia,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy Collins,
Hardrive,
Moby Grape,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fall,
Jacob Miller,
cv313,
Harry Pussy,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
Ken Boothe,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.