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 Seychelles and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Funky Four + One,
the Bar-Kays,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Stereo Dub,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deepchord,
Josef K,
Gang Starr,
Suburban Knight,
Whodini,
The Leaves,
Pole,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
Lyres,
Morten Harket,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
Susan Cadogan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Panda Bear,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
Sonic Youth,
Organ,
Lower 48,
Cluster,
Rotary Connection,
Rakim,
Japan,
Nils Olav,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Echospace,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Detroit Cobras,
Unrelated Segments,
The Doors,
10cc,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Amon Düül II,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Man Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Music Machine,
Neu!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.