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 Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ponytail,
Oneida,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young,
Tom Boy,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
the Germs,
The Techniques,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy Collins,
Yusef Lateef,
The Velvet Underground,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
The Monks,
Wally Richardson,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Whodini,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Junior Murvin,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiohead,
The Moody Blues,
Soul II Soul,
The Busters,
Thompson Twins,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
Traffic Nightmare,
K-Klass,
Can,
Sonic Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Sugar Minott,
Flipper,
MDC,
Josef K,
Joyce Sims,
Half Japanese,
Eric Copeland,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
B.T. Express,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.