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 Bolivia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Flag 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Scrapy,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
Joey Negro,
The Fire Engines,
Robert Wyatt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Desert Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Anthony Braxton,
Vladislav Delay,
Brass Construction,
Jesper Dahlback,
Laurel Aitken,
Gabor Szabo,
Faust,
The Slits,
Harry Pussy,
The Toasters,
Urselle,
Boz Scaggs,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
The Victims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Audionom,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed,
Dave Gahan,
Organ,
Drexciya,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barrington Levy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
The Associates,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nik Kershaw,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Görl,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Green,
The Martian,
John Holt,
The Durutti Column,
The Real Kids,
Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Litter,
JFA,
Khruangbin,
Silicon Teens,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.