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 Pakistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marcia Griffiths,
Faust,
Eurythmics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Pop Group,
Q65,
Piero Umiliani,
Smog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Index,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scan 7,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Jacob Miller,
Pierre Henry,
Carl Craig,
Reagan Youth,
One Last Wish,
Brothers Johnson,
The Electric Prunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Prince Buster,
Steve Hackett,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Bar-Kays,
Thompson Twins,
Moebius,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Starr,
The Fall,
New Order,
Alphaville,
Visage,
T.S.O.L.,
The United States of America,
Brass Construction,
La Düsseldorf,
Oneida,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tommy Roe,
Can,
The Offenders,
Ornette Coleman,
The Busters,
DNA,
Heaven 17,
The Invisible,
Janne Schatter,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.