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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Das Ding to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Style,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
H. Thieme,
Hoover,
Silicon Teens,
Rites of Spring,
A Certain Ratio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Blues Magoos,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Names,
Siglo XX,
Procol Harum,
Prince Buster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glenn Branca,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Desert Stars,
Nas,
The Wake,
La Düsseldorf,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
World's Most,
Fatback Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
Dead Boys,
Pulsallama,
Jawbox,
Roxette,
Intrusion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dave Gahan,
Scrapy,
Black Bananas,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.