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 Monaco and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Five Americans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Invisible,
Joey Negro,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joensuu 1685,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
The Buckinghams,
Grey Daturas,
Khruangbin,
Outsiders,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Funkadelic,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
Tres Demented,
Talk Talk,
Quando Quango,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stiv Bators,
Michelle Simonal,
Index,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Trojans,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Association,
EPMD,
Dave Gahan,
The Move,
OOIOO,
The New Christs,
The Remains,
Quadrant,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dark Day,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dead Boys,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oneida,
Fluxion,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fugs,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.