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 Fiji and from Shanghai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Glenn Branca to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Nirvana,
The Fall,
Gong,
Deepchord,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nik Kershaw,
Crooked Eye,
Pylon,
Slick Rick,
The Smoke,
Neil Young,
PIL,
Q and Not U,
David Bowie,
Yusef Lateef,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül II,
Sällskapet,
The Real Kids,
Little Man,
Nas,
Aural Exciters,
Boz Scaggs,
Japan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nico,
Bill Wells,
The Selecter,
The Barracudas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Happenings,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Pagans,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
ABC,
X-102,
The Modern Lovers,
Alice Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger,
Crime,
Tim Buckley,
The Smiths,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric Dolphy,
The Evens,
Pantaleimon,
Schoolly D,
Davy DMX,
One Last Wish,
Theoretical Girls,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.