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 Benin and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun Ra,
The Durutti Column,
Reuben Wilson,
Los Fastidios,
the Association,
Alton Ellis,
Little Man,
the Bar-Kays,
Hot Snakes,
LL Cool J,
FM Einheit,
K-Klass,
Connie Case,
Quando Quango,
Flipper,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxette,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Supertramp,
Wings,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neu!,
The Kinks,
UT,
Royal Trux,
Popol Vuh,
Ludus,
X-101,
Grandmaster Flash,
Steve Hackett,
Brass Construction,
Liliput,
Alphaville,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Skarface,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
Interpol,
Monolake,
Cal Tjader,
Babytalk,
The Raincoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dave Gahan,
F. McDonald,
Joe Finger,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.