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 Nicaragua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
PIL,
Todd Terry,
Reagan Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Crispy Ambulance,
Darondo,
Theoretical Girls,
Ten City,
Eric Dolphy,
Excepter,
Harmonia,
Kaleidoscope,
K-Klass,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
Neu!,
Matthew Bourne,
The American Breed,
8 Eyed Spy,
Section 25,
These Immortal Souls,
The Standells,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Glambeats Corp.,
Half Japanese,
ABBA,
Barbara Tucker,
Pagans,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Royal Trux,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun City Girls,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
Max Romeo,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxy Music,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nirvana,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.