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 Malawi and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Visage to the electroclash 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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The Stooges,
Angry Samoans,
Cameo,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eden Ahbez,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
The Divine Comedy,
The Real Kids,
The Leaves,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bad Manners,
Goldenarms,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stereo Dub,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Carl Craig,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
This Heat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Severed Heads,
Moby Grape,
Henry Cow,
FM Einheit,
Thee Headcoats,
DNA,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Eurythmics,
Althea and Donna,
The Techniques,
Joey Negro,
Jeff Lynne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Quantec,
Avey Tare,
Nation of Ulysses,
CMW,
Ohio Players,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Lower 48,
The Cure,
Thompson Twins,
Todd Terry,
kango's stein massive,
The Kinks,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.