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 Estonia and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Buzzcocks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Dirtbombs,
Wolf Eyes,
Electric Prunes,
The Moleskins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronan,
New Order,
Motorama,
Magma,
Mo-Dettes,
Duran Duran,
The Walker Brothers,
Mars,
Neil Young,
Glenn Branca,
Royal Trux,
The Barracudas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Trojans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
kango's stein massive,
Godley & Creme,
D'Angelo,
Oblivians,
Interpol,
Sex Pistols,
The Mummies,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Mission of Burma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Simply Red,
The Pretty Things,
Curtis Mayfield,
Susan Cadogan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fear,
The Smiths,
The Cramps,
Rakim,
EPMD,
Fad Gadget,
Derrick May,
Nation of Ulysses,
Adolescents,
Harmonia,
John Holt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.