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 Kyrgyzstan and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Duran Duran to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Kinks,
Todd Terry,
Das Ding,
48th St. Collective,
DJ Style,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-101,
Piero Umiliani,
The Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
The Slits,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Au Pairs,
Warren Ellis,
The Cramps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q65,
cv313,
The Smiths,
Mission of Burma,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Germs,
Jandek,
Mr. Review,
The Toasters,
Black Flag,
David Axelrod,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thompson Twins,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lindisfarne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ornette Coleman,
The Black Dice,
Wasted Youth,
Ultra Naté,
Tubeway Army,
Maurizio,
The Moody Blues,
The Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Almond,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sparks,
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.