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 Czech Republic and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 Kayak to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Moby Grape,
Derrick May,
Andrew Hill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pussy Galore,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
JFA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kurtis Blow,
the Normal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Organ,
Jimmy McGriff,
Josef K,
The Gories,
X-102,
Kayak,
Nas,
Marc Almond,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Certain Ratio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Victims,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Television Personalities,
The Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
The Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Negative Approach,
Rosa Yemen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Human League,
The Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Smog,
Jacques Brel,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Livin' Joy,
Graham Central Station,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
Harry Pussy,
Glenn Branca,
Deadbeat,
Crime,
DJ Sneak,
Fela Kuti,
The United States of America,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.