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 Stockholm.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Terry Callier to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Echospace,
Deakin,
Kenny Larkin,
Nik Kershaw,
Pylon,
Blake Baxter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
The Five Americans,
The Gun Club,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
Schoolly D,
The Young Rascals,
Outsiders,
Supertramp,
Iggy Pop,
Deadbeat,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blossom Toes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fugazi,
Liliput,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
Derrick Morgan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Duran Duran,
Alphaville,
Intrusion,
Colin Newman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crime,
Suburban Knight,
The Raincoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Germs,
Junior Murvin,
The Move,
Hot Snakes,
Sex Pistols,
The Monochrome Set,
the Slits,
Q65,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Y Pants,
The Litter,
Marc Almond,
Spandau Ballet,
The Velvet Underground,
Bill Near,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.