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 Samoa and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Grauzone to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Magazine,
Joe Finger,
Moebius,
Pylon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Masters at Work,
Carl Craig,
Amon Düül,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Faraquet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
Vainqueur,
Sam Rivers,
Symarip,
Tears for Fears,
The Human League,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zero Boys,
The Seeds,
Neil Young,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suburban Knight,
The Pop Group,
Altered Images,
Silicon Teens,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
Nik Kershaw,
Sixth Finger,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang of Four,
Mad Mike,
Slick Rick,
Cluster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
John Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mars,
Fugazi,
Lalo Schifrin,
MDC,
Bad Manners,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mantronix,
Pierre Henry,
Johnny Clarke,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.