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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Bill Wells to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
Crime,
Deakin,
Anakelly,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Residents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masters at Work,
Monolake,
Loose Ends,
Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Last Poets,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Normal,
Fad Gadget,
Neil Young,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tubeway Army,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hashim,
Scientists,
Roxette,
Jacques Brel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soft Machine,
The Evens,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
Alton Ellis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker,
Scrapy,
the Association,
Yellowson,
the Bar-Kays,
Tim Buckley,
Vainqueur,
Hardrive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Junior Murvin,
Fat Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
MDC,
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.