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 Andorra and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiohead,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Pantaleimon,
Pantytec,
Freddie Wadling,
Fat Boys,
The Residents,
Audionom,
Gabor Szabo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Bar-Kays,
AZ,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
Yazoo,
The Buckinghams,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
Connie Case,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonic Youth,
Country Teasers,
X-102,
Danielle Patucci,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
Sixth Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
F. McDonald,
The Names,
Schoolly D,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
One Last Wish,
Thee Headcoats,
Juan Atkins,
The Smiths,
The Remains,
The Fortunes,
Bob Dylan,
Ronan,
The Evens,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.