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 Sierra Leone and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Eddi Front,
Infiniti,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Sneak,
Y Pants,
The Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Barracudas,
Sex Pistols,
Boz Scaggs,
R.M.O.,
Qualms,
Lou Christie,
Stetsasonic,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
Moss Icon,
Lightning Bolt,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
Echospace,
Royal Trux,
Ronan,
Prince Buster,
Wings,
Godley & Creme,
Rufus Thomas,
Alton Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Golliwogs,
Nas,
Bronski Beat,
Drive Like Jehu,
AZ,
Bootsy Collins,
Tom Boy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Metal Thangz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Average White Band,
Neu!,
Rekid,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
David Bowie,
Marvin Gaye,
Newcleus,
MDC,
China Crisis,
EPMD,
The Invisible,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lungfish,
Chris & Cosey,
Barrington Levy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Aswad,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yazoo,
Sandy B,
The American Breed,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.