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 Oman and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Christie to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Modern Lovers,
Sex Pistols,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
The Gladiators,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
Motorama,
Frankie Knuckles,
Danielle Patucci,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Green,
The Names,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Pop Group,
Gong,
Lyres,
Carl Craig,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glenn Branca,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantytec,
Crooked Eye,
The Doobie Brothers,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
Unwound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Max Romeo,
10cc,
Make Up,
The Stooges,
John Holt,
Mr. Review,
Mandrill,
Joensuu 1685,
The Index,
Jandek,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
Angry Samoans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Almond,
Pulsallama,
Alice Coltrane,
Simply Red,
Roger Hodgson,
Joyce Sims,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Moon,
The Leaves,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
Tomorrow,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.