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 Austria and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 John Foxx to the jazz 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Pierre Henry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Section 25,
The Birthday Party,
B.T. Express,
Zero Boys,
Lungfish,
The Kinks,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brothers Johnson,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minor Threat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Adolescents,
Slave,
The Golliwogs,
Eden Ahbez,
Bush Tetras,
Sarah Menescal,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Sherman,
Livin' Joy,
Mad Mike,
Panda Bear,
Intrusion,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
Mo-Dettes,
Bob Dylan,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
The Index,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roger Hodgson,
Unrelated Segments,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minutemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gregory Isaacs,
Minny Pops,
Black Moon,
The Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
Barry Ungar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Todd Terry,
Television Personalities,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.