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 Zimbabwe and from New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Babytalk to the punk 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Ultravox,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
Gong,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Absolute Body Control,
Davy DMX,
Isaac Hayes,
Spandau Ballet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Motorama,
the Germs,
LL Cool J,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fire Engines,
Goldenarms,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Foxx,
The Names,
Q and Not U,
Los Fastidios,
Wasted Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
The Angels of Light,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
Chris & Cosey,
Depeche Mode,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Fear,
B.T. Express,
Soft Cell,
Swans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roxy Music,
The Fortunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
Monks,
Robert Görl,
Prince Buster,
Michelle Simonal,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Mills,
The Slackers,
Tubeway Army,
Bush Tetras,
Idris Muhammad,
Con Funk Shun,
Don Cherry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.