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 Germany and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Susan Cadogan to the disco 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
Excepter,
X-102,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Drexciya,
Letta Mbulu,
Morten Harket,
Smog,
Soulsonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
Fad Gadget,
The Fall,
the Association,
The Monks,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Depeche Mode,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Quantec,
Al Stewart,
Arab on Radar,
Gichy Dan,
Grauzone,
The Victims,
Lalann,
Intrusion,
Black Sheep,
DNA,
Marmalade,
Sandy B,
Easy Going,
Althea and Donna,
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
Leonard Cohen,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare,
Bluetip,
Magazine,
Pierre Henry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Sixth Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alison Limerick,
China Crisis,
Los Fastidios,
Babytalk,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
Crooked Eye,
Technova,
Isaac Hayes,
CMW,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.