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 Croatia and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Derrick May to the punk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Faraquet,
MDC,
F. McDonald,
The Martian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Freddie Wadling,
Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
X-101,
Ice-T,
One Last Wish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
Unwound,
Bootsy Collins,
Masters at Work,
The American Breed,
Slick Rick,
Throbbing Gristle,
Massinfluence,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minnie Riperton,
The Evens,
Bobby Sherman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
The Golliwogs,
Youth Brigade,
The Velvet Underground,
Connie Case,
E-Dancer,
Wally Richardson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arthur Verocai,
The Tremeloes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Altered Images,
Mars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Al Stewart,
Ultra Naté,
The Cramps,
Popol Vuh,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pussy Galore,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Human League,
Goldenarms,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deepchord,
The Offenders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.