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 Marshall Islands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 Inner City to the grunge 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Wings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skarface,
Quando Quango,
Nils Olav,
The J.B.'s,
Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tropical Tobacco,
JFA,
Fad Gadget,
L. Decosne,
Intrusion,
Country Teasers,
Toni Rubio,
Faraquet,
Talk Talk,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter and Kerry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Royal Trux,
Swans,
Kayak,
the Association,
F. McDonald,
Lakeside,
The Blues Magoos,
Pierre Henry,
Agent Orange,
Little Man,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Germs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Modern Lovers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Pus,
Liliput,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Slits,
Brothers Johnson,
Neu!,
Thee Headcoats,
Gong,
Wire,
Wasted Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Prince Buster,
Radio Birdman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Surgeon,
Hashim,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.