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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Cell to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Deepchord,
The Index,
Visage,
the Slits,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
Chris & Cosey,
The Knickerbockers,
Scan 7,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Smog,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ossler,
The Dead C,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pussy Galore,
Warsaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Dawn Penn,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sarah Menescal,
Isaac Hayes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Tears for Fears,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
the Human League,
Ronan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arcadia,
Lindisfarne,
Alton Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
Scrapy,
Zero Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Martian,
Groovy Waters,
Howard Jones,
The Buckinghams,
Minutemen,
Rapeman,
Nik Kershaw,
Gabor Szabo,
The Music Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Oneida,
48th St. Collective,
Suburban Knight,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Desert Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.