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 Vietnam and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 FM Einheit to the dance 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
ABC,
a-ha,
Scientists,
Barry Ungar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-101,
Groovy Waters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
One Last Wish,
The United States of America,
The American Breed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Qualms,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Television,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
Scratch Acid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blake Baxter,
Babytalk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fear,
Robert Görl,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brass Construction,
Make Up,
Johnny Clarke,
Agitation Free,
U.S. Maple,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
David Bowie,
the Association,
The Doors,
Sugar Minott,
The Divine Comedy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Patti Smith,
Radiohead,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David McCallum,
Au Pairs,
Darondo,
Can,
The Dirtbombs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.