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 Samoa and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boredoms,
The Walker Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Todd Rundgren,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
K-Klass,
Section 25,
Deadbeat,
The Fugs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Supertramp,
Eurythmics,
Susan Cadogan,
Audionom,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maleditus Sound,
Dennis Brown,
Skaos,
Black Bananas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brick,
Urselle,
X-101,
Funky Four + One,
Camouflage,
John Lydon,
Magma,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rod Modell,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Sheep,
Mark Hollis,
Zapp,
Alton Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Radio Birdman,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jeff Mills,
Au Pairs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Flesh Eaters,
Godley & Creme,
World's Most,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dual Sessions,
Drexciya,
Bronski Beat,
Los Fastidios,
Niagra,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang of Four,
Intrusion,
Jandek,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.