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 Tunisia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
In Retrospect,
Bob Dylan,
The Trojans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Qualms,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DNA,
Hasil Adkins,
David Bowie,
The Blues Magoos,
Yazoo,
Stetsasonic,
The Slackers,
Roxy Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Derrick Morgan,
Ornette Coleman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pussy Galore,
Darondo,
Agent Orange,
Pantytec,
Scan 7,
The Moleskins,
Sixth Finger,
Cymande,
Sight & Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Average White Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crash Course in Science,
The Raincoats,
Rakim,
Jacques Brel,
ABBA,
James White and The Blacks,
Buzzcocks,
the Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
Au Pairs,
Janne Schatter,
Rites of Spring,
the Swans,
Blake Baxter,
Minny Pops,
Maurizio,
Scion,
Jandek,
Barbara Tucker,
The Pop Group,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy Collins,
Joe Finger,
The Cure,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Last Poets,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.