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 Rwanda and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hashim,
Negative Approach,
the Swans,
Sandy B,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
EPMD,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U,
Soul II Soul,
Japan,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Simply Red,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun Ra,
Eric Dolphy,
Underground Resistance,
David McCallum,
Kas Product,
Radio Birdman,
Wolf Eyes,
The Toasters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blake Baxter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Youth Brigade,
Donny Hathaway,
Agent Orange,
Arthur Verocai,
Adolescents,
the Association,
Anthony Braxton,
Cameo,
Easy Going,
Tres Demented,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Young Rascals,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marine Girls,
Suburban Knight,
The Real Kids,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
The New Christs,
Panda Bear,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Slits,
Roxette,
Derrick May,
Wire,
Hoover,
World's Most,
Wasted Youth,
The Dead C,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chrome,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.