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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Standells to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quantec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Blake Baxter,
The Trojans,
KRS-One,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
Mission of Burma,
Slick Rick,
Niagra,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy Collins,
Masters at Work,
Young Marble Giants,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Clarke,
Desert Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Talk Talk,
Joensuu 1685,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
Youth Brigade,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
The Dirtbombs,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacob Miller,
Supertramp,
The Seeds,
New York Dolls,
Pylon,
Alice Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
The Saints,
Fear,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers,
Q and Not U,
The Music Machine,
Trumans Water,
Severed Heads,
Gong,
Lou Christie,
Das Ding,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
EPMD,
Thee Headcoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
Sonic Youth,
Basic Channel,
Grauzone,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fluxion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.