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 Botswana and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 New Order to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Trojans,
Quando Quango,
Royal Trux,
Loose Ends,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Theoretical Girls,
Duran Duran,
The Moody Blues,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
Scrapy,
Joyce Sims,
Average White Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roxy Music,
F. McDonald,
Moby Grape,
Minnie Riperton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Sixth Finger,
The Zeros,
Public Enemy,
Arcadia,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barbara Tucker,
John Holt,
The Fuzztones,
Pole,
The Barracudas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Delta 5,
Skaos,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
The Velvet Underground,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Davy DMX,
Youth Brigade,
Harmonia,
Hoover,
Easy Going,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Bourne,
Nico,
Anthony Braxton,
Soulsonic Force,
Ossler,
Slave,
DJ Style,
PIL,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light,
Ice-T,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.