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 Samoa and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Swans to the funk 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
Warren Ellis,
Newcleus,
Quadrant,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Stooges,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wings,
Alphaville,
Neu!,
Ultravox,
The Pretty Things,
The Birthday Party,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stereo Dub,
Interpol,
Index,
Steve Hackett,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The New Christs,
Morten Harket,
Sandy B,
The Last Poets,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
the Germs,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Sherman,
Moss Icon,
Pantytec,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
The Vogues,
Alton Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
Subhumans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Womack,
Von Mondo,
Gang Starr,
Flash Fearless,
Charles Mingus,
Joensuu 1685,
Loose Ends,
Sun City Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Visage,
Wasted Youth,
Heaven 17,
Cecil Taylor,
Shuggie Otis,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.