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 Peru and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Basic Channel to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
the Normal,
Anthony Braxton,
The Neon Judgement,
Ponytail,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slackers,
These Immortal Souls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Mantronix,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Velvet Underground,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mojo Men,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
Aural Exciters,
Suburban Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
Supertramp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lucky Dragons,
Funkadelic,
The Associates,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
La Düsseldorf,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skriet,
Reagan Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Mr. Review,
Fat Boys,
Warsaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minny Pops,
The Five Americans,
Darondo,
Ultra Naté,
Motorama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harry Pussy,
Technova,
Surgeon,
Procol Harum,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Basic Channel,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.