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 Papua New Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 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 Aaron Thompson to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Lou Reed,
Joe Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
Deakin,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Sam Rivers,
Colin Newman,
Model 500,
Minny Pops,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Henry Cow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lower 48,
Ituana,
Sex Pistols,
Second Layer,
Bad Manners,
The Victims,
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Star Department,
Pierre Henry,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Golliwogs,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
The Cowsills,
the Slits,
Skarface,
Tom Boy,
JFA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Das Ding,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warsaw,
Erykah Badu,
The Neon Judgement,
ABC,
Marc Almond,
New Order,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Reuben Wilson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fad Gadget,
MC5,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.