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 Mozambique and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Idris Muhammad to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Parry Music,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun Ra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
ABC,
This Heat,
Smog,
Jeru the Damaja,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cure,
David McCallum,
Babytalk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Letta Mbulu,
MDC,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül II,
Little Man,
Chris & Cosey,
Toni Rubio,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-101,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlback,
Khruangbin,
The Techniques,
Albert Ayler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kayak,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gories,
Mandrill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Offenders,
Steve Hackett,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Sherman,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiohead,
The Zeros,
The Raincoats,
Malaria!,
Sister Nancy,
Laurel Aitken,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.