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 Ecuador and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Parry Music,
Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
The Move,
Joyce Sims,
Fugazi,
the Slits,
DJ Sneak,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
Black Moon,
Bang On A Can,
Moebius,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pantaleimon,
Connie Case,
Brand Nubian,
Rekid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
Quando Quango,
The American Breed,
Susan Cadogan,
The Techniques,
D'Angelo,
Symarip,
The Skatalites,
Mark Hollis,
John Foxx,
Suburban Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
The Associates,
The Pretty Things,
Technova,
Tom Boy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maleditus Sound,
Marc Almond,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Bad Manners,
The Dead C,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Monolake,
Glenn Branca,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
The Trojans,
The Birthday Party,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Motions,
Guru Guru,
Derrick May,
The Barracudas,
Steve Hackett,
The Zeros,
Morten Harket,
K-Klass,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.