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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Circle Jerks to the techno 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Thee Headcoats,
Easy Going,
Rod Modell,
Wolf Eyes,
Brand Nubian,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Sister Nancy,
Godley & Creme,
FM Einheit,
Chris Corsano,
The Associates,
Gang of Four,
Bill Wells,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soulsonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brass Construction,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hoover,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Searchers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
Yaz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends,
Kas Product,
The Blackbyrds,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Groovy Waters,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
The Modern Lovers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Golliwogs,
Moby Grape,
Joensuu 1685,
China Crisis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Animal Collective,
The J.B.'s,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Simply Red,
Scratch Acid,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.