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 Malta and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Red Krayola to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Terry Callier,
Malaria!,
JFA,
John Foxx,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
The Smoke,
Mantronix,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
ABC,
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smiths,
The Raincoats,
Yellowson,
Deakin,
Electric Prunes,
The Vogues,
Fear,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Von Mondo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Maleditus Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fortunes,
Lightning Bolt,
Kerri Chandler,
Kurtis Blow,
Dave Gahan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Index,
Altered Images,
Silicon Teens,
Chrome,
Warren Ellis,
Slick Rick,
The Move,
Gang of Four,
Piero Umiliani,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Womack,
Donald Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
Ice-T,
Gang Gang Dance,
Easy Going,
Adolescents,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
Whodini,
Sex Pistols,
The American Breed,
The Mojo Men,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.