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 Kiribati and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Style. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slave,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
PIL,
Warsaw,
Intrusion,
UT,
MC5,
Tim Buckley,
Stiv Bators,
The Count Five,
The Slits,
Ice-T,
Roxy Music,
Yazoo,
the Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
Al Stewart,
Roger Hodgson,
cv313,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Spoonie Gee,
Technova,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yellowson,
The J.B.'s,
Colin Newman,
Eric Dolphy,
Brass Construction,
Alison Limerick,
Circle Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Chris & Cosey,
Flipper,
The Music Machine,
T. Rex,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeff Mills,
48th St. Collective,
Bootsy Collins,
Reuben Wilson,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Jawbox,
Frankie Knuckles,
Zero Boys,
Blancmange,
Jeff Lynne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Todd Terry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
Television,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.