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 Azerbaijan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Thee Headcoats to the funk 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blues Magoos,
This Heat,
The Techniques,
The Gladiators,
Todd Terry,
Janne Schatter,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slave,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fugs,
Yusef Lateef,
Yellowson,
the Sonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Echospace,
cv313,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Niagra,
the Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Teasers,
Wire,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Victims,
Black Bananas,
Fluxion,
Rotary Connection,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
the Germs,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pulsallama,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barrington Levy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hashim,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Clear Light,
Kaleidoscope,
Mantronix,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gap Band,
L. Decosne,
Dark Day,
OOIOO,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Livin' Joy,
Malaria!,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fire Engines,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.