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 Honduras 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ludus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
David Axelrod,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
Talk Talk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Los Fastidios,
Max Romeo,
Marmalade,
Erasure,
X-101,
The Smiths,
Loose Ends,
Infiniti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Can,
Kayak,
The Human League,
Visage,
Davy DMX,
The Selecter,
Basic Channel,
Nils Olav,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultra Naté,
Deepchord,
Mary Jane Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonny Sharrock,
Duran Duran,
The Neon Judgement,
La Düsseldorf,
John Lydon,
Lindisfarne,
Depeche Mode,
8 Eyed Spy,
Easy Going,
Eve St. Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Alphaville,
Malaria!,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sam Rivers,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
The Raincoats,
Au Pairs,
Delta 5,
the Normal,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
Ponytail,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.