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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Boredoms to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Lynne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
CMW,
Negative Approach,
Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Style,
the Swans,
The Searchers,
The Buckinghams,
Barry Ungar,
Saccharine Trust,
Deepchord,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Near,
Idris Muhammad,
B.T. Express,
Marine Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
KRS-One,
Nas,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Flag,
John Lydon,
Ken Boothe,
R.M.O.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yaz,
The Count Five,
Camberwell Now,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quadrant,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
Boredoms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.