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 Philippines and from Glasgow.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Index to the electroclash 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Darondo,
Urselle,
Funkadelic,
Connie Case,
Lightning Bolt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Archie Shepp,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Star Department,
Andrew Hill,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
Agent Orange,
Sister Nancy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
Barrington Levy,
The Zeros,
Zapp,
The American Breed,
Ten City,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Almond,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neu!,
Sällskapet,
Tears for Fears,
The Fall,
The Gladiators,
B.T. Express,
Ultravox,
E-Dancer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Teasers,
The Seeds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mandrill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mr. Review,
David Axelrod,
The Human League,
The Pop Group,
The Slackers,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacob Miller,
The Modern Lovers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Parry Music,
Hardrive,
Accadde A,
PIL,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Maurizio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.