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 Kenya and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the dance 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
June of 44,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rites of Spring,
The American Breed,
Sister Nancy,
Niagra,
The Pop Group,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
Brand Nubian,
Intrusion,
Echospace,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
John Lydon,
Swans,
Godley & Creme,
Janne Schatter,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wire,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spoonie Gee,
Joyce Sims,
Symarip,
Aural Exciters,
Steve Hackett,
DNA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Cale,
the Human League,
the Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Maleditus Sound,
the Germs,
Index,
the Association,
Gichy Dan,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Unwound,
The Divine Comedy,
Fad Gadget,
The Cramps,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jandek,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arcadia,
Agent Orange,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
Terrestrial Tones,
Junior Murvin,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.