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 Sri Lanka and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Yazoo to the punk 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Tim Buckley,
Television,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suburban Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Henry Cow,
Jerry's Kids,
Alice Coltrane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zero Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Germs,
The Walker Brothers,
The New Christs,
Fear,
Sex Pistols,
Jacques Brel,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Star Department,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
Unrelated Segments,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Spoonie Gee,
Judy Mowatt,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crash Course in Science,
R.M.O.,
Deakin,
K-Klass,
The Leaves,
China Crisis,
Banda Bassotti,
The Beau Brummels,
John Cale,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Bad Manners,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Litter,
Skarface,
Ornette Coleman,
Supertramp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unwound,
Parry Music,
Dark Day,
Camouflage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
Sarah Menescal,
Janne Schatter,
Interpol,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.