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 India and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Modern Lovers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barclay James Harvest,
Loose Ends,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sam Rivers,
Eve St. Jones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thompson Twins,
Bauhaus,
The Cure,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aaron Thompson,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
Marmalade,
Hoover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slackers,
One Last Wish,
Nirvana,
Barrington Levy,
The Buckinghams,
John Foxx,
Jandek,
Spandau Ballet,
the Normal,
The Leaves,
Graham Central Station,
Ponytail,
a-ha,
Danielle Patucci,
Archie Shepp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quadrant,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Minnie Riperton,
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boz Scaggs,
the Human League,
Circle Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang On A Can,
Dave Gahan,
Kayak,
Cybotron,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.