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 Malta and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aural Exciters to the electroclash 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Derrick May,
John Foxx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Subhumans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Neon Judgement,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scrapy,
The Smoke,
Y Pants,
Bang On A Can,
Judy Mowatt,
E-Dancer,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris Corsano,
Hashim,
The Raincoats,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pulsallama,
The Stooges,
MDC,
The Martian,
Boredoms,
DJ Style,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Alarm Clocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nirvana,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Fraelich,
Roger Hodgson,
Amazonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Eden Ahbez,
Livin' Joy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alphaville,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Modern Lovers,
Nik Kershaw,
Circle Jerks,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
Los Fastidios,
Ossler,
Charles Mingus,
Kas Product,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Durutti Column,
Godley & Creme,
Marmalade,
Wasted Youth,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.