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 Norway and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ponytail to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang Starr,
Motorama,
Youth Brigade,
The Names,
Zapp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Porter Ricks,
Blake Baxter,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nik Kershaw,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Easy Going,
The Moleskins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bob Dylan,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Bill Near,
Subhumans,
Aural Exciters,
The Doors,
Glenn Branca,
48th St. Collective,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Slits,
Malaria!,
X-102,
T. Rex,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Image Ltd.,
Don Cherry,
KRS-One,
Absolute Body Control,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Davy DMX,
Q65,
The Velvet Underground,
New Age Steppers,
Prince Buster,
Robert Wyatt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gories,
Alphaville,
Frankie Knuckles,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Piero Umiliani,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
Adolescents,
the Swans,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.