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 Mexico and from Portland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roxette to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Reagan Youth,
Mr. Review,
Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eurythmics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pussy Galore,
Howard Jones,
Fad Gadget,
Magma,
Donald Byrd,
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker,
Robert Görl,
Lindisfarne,
a-ha,
Quadrant,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dave Gahan,
Eli Mardock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Hood,
Massinfluence,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deepchord,
Vainqueur,
Judy Mowatt,
The New Christs,
R.M.O.,
Joyce Sims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Zapp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gun Club,
D'Angelo,
Magazine,
X-101,
Hashim,
Audionom,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Fear,
Tim Buckley,
H. Thieme,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick May,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
Babytalk,
Symarip,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.