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 Estonia and from New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Juan Atkins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Scion,
Drexciya,
Ken Boothe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Porter Ricks,
Pere Ubu,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Seeds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Smog,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
The Remains,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
David Bowie,
OOIOO,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Teasers,
The Young Rascals,
Unrelated Segments,
Section 25,
Skriet,
Average White Band,
Wally Richardson,
Minor Threat,
Josef K,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris & Cosey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jandek,
B.T. Express,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eurythmics,
The Toasters,
Tears for Fears,
The Fuzztones,
Yellowson,
Skaos,
In Retrospect,
Suicide,
The Slits,
John Lydon,
Danielle Patucci,
Susan Cadogan,
Alton Ellis,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Byrd,
H. Thieme,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.