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 Liechtenstein and from London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 Slits to the funk 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Roxette,
Crime,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Dead Boys,
LL Cool J,
Freddie Wadling,
Procol Harum,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Techniques,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Qualms,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
Lightning Bolt,
The Electric Prunes,
Second Layer,
Rosa Yemen,
Accadde A,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Mantronix,
Boz Scaggs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bill Near,
June of 44,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
Unrelated Segments,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
The Busters,
The Saints,
Joy Division,
Marc Almond,
John Foxx,
The Smiths,
Hardrive,
Suicide,
Country Teasers,
Eden Ahbez,
Bush Tetras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Piero Umiliani,
Godley & Creme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Bananas,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Half Japanese,
Groovy Waters,
FM Einheit,
Average White Band,
Audionom,
Camouflage,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.