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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Monolake to the disco 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Sällskapet,
Ultravox,
Joe Smooth,
Dual Sessions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Colin Newman,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool Moe Dee,
David McCallum,
The Monks,
Gastr Del Sol,
cv313,
Jeff Mills,
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cluster,
Bad Manners,
Nick Fraelich,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
R.M.O.,
FM Einheit,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Minny Pops,
Roger Hodgson,
Maleditus Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxy Music,
Make Up,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radio Birdman,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yazoo,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
The Fugs,
Dennis Brown,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marine Girls,
Crime,
The Happenings,
L. Decosne,
Harry Pussy,
The Gladiators,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Toni Rubio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minor Threat,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.