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 Cameroon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the disco 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Beasts of Bourbon,
ABC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blancmange,
the Slits,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cluster,
Roxette,
the Sonics,
Main Source,
Black Moon,
Kas Product,
Althea and Donna,
Public Image Ltd.,
China Crisis,
the Germs,
Cameo,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
D'Angelo,
Mr. Review,
EPMD,
Supertramp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Desert Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Index,
The Raincoats,
Matthew Halsall,
Laurel Aitken,
Chris Corsano,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang of Four,
The Sound,
The Gun Club,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Tremeloes,
Clear Light,
The Happenings,
Ten City,
Franke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
L. Decosne,
Infiniti,
The Standells,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
The Five Americans,
Rosa Yemen,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delta 5,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Smiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.