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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Donald Fagen 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 Lou Christie to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Kaleidoscope,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magma,
Hot Snakes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Dark Day,
Schoolly D,
The Neon Judgement,
The Modern Lovers,
Popol Vuh,
kango's stein massive,
The Red Krayola,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yazoo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Litter,
Aswad,
The Blackbyrds,
Tubeway Army,
Prince Buster,
Cheater Slicks,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Althea and Donna,
Motorama,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Japan,
Minny Pops,
Kas Product,
Ludus,
Reagan Youth,
Visage,
Pussy Galore,
Zapp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tres Demented,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonic Youth,
Monolake,
Dave Gahan,
Roger Hodgson,
Ronan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ohio Players,
The Gladiators,
The American Breed,
Arab on Radar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Certain Ratio,
Basic Channel,
The Move,
Bang On A Can,
The Trojans,
Mantronix,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.