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 Romania and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cheater Slicks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
Howard Jones,
Q65,
ABBA,
Mantronix,
The Tremeloes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
The Trojans,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
Pylon,
the Sonics,
Public Image Ltd.,
Saccharine Trust,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sun City Girls,
PIL,
Wire,
Pet Shop Boys,
Index,
Joensuu 1685,
Iggy Pop,
Kas Product,
In Retrospect,
Porter Ricks,
Desert Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Boz Scaggs,
Pussy Galore,
Tom Boy,
Blancmange,
Infiniti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suburban Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
The Star Department,
JFA,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Teasers,
Dennis Brown,
D'Angelo,
Henry Cow,
Technova,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monks,
Masters at Work,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily,
The Busters,
The Motions,
Hashim,
The Cure,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.