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 Kuwait and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rap 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
World's Most,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
June Days,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Visage,
Cal Tjader,
Connie Case,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hardrive,
Gichy Dan,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
Jawbox,
Siglo XX,
Rufus Thomas,
Camouflage,
Sugar Minott,
The Monks,
John Cale,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dirtbombs,
Toni Rubio,
The Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alphaville,
Simply Red,
Faust,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Pus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Swans,
A Certain Ratio,
Neil Young,
Trumans Water,
The Neon Judgement,
Icehouse,
Reuben Wilson,
Cameo,
Eli Mardock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
This Heat,
Index,
Pussy Galore,
Althea and Donna,
The Gap Band,
Subhumans,
Amon Düül II,
Heaven 17,
Fluxion,
ABC,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.