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 Bolivia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kenny Larkin to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
Buzzcocks,
Excepter,
Patti Smith,
Deepchord,
Khruangbin,
Newcleus,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Connie Case,
CMW,
Minny Pops,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funkadelic,
Barrington Levy,
The Trojans,
Severed Heads,
The Standells,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
New Order,
The Offenders,
Robert Hood,
Ronan,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Andrew Hill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Supertramp,
The Gladiators,
Gang of Four,
Ten City,
Blancmange,
John Lydon,
The Velvet Underground,
Interpol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Scratch Acid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Schoolly D,
Freddie Wadling,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultravox,
Babytalk,
John Foxx,
Magma,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Pulsallama,
Barry Ungar,
China Crisis,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.