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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 A Flock of Seagulls 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
B.T. Express,
the Swans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Association,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
Second Layer,
Kas Product,
Gong,
The Stooges,
Sound Behaviour,
Au Pairs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Television,
The Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
Yusef Lateef,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed,
a-ha,
Ronnie Foster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cal Tjader,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players,
Joe Smooth,
JFA,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Can,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jandek,
Soul II Soul,
Gang of Four,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sugar Minott,
Silicon Teens,
Henry Cow,
Massinfluence,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlback,
Piero Umiliani,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Half Japanese,
Graham Central Station,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rites of Spring,
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.