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 Egypt and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Faust to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
Can,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neil Young,
Arthur Verocai,
The Beau Brummels,
T. Rex,
Deepchord,
Cymande,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ossler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nick Fraelich,
Joe Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hashim,
Man Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mojo Men,
These Immortal Souls,
Audionom,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
The Zeros,
The Techniques,
The Remains,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Connie Case,
The Angels of Light,
Anakelly,
Brothers Johnson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
8 Eyed Spy,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
EPMD,
The Dead C,
Sound Behaviour,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cheater Slicks,
the Slits,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
ABC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
K-Klass,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.