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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sun Ra to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Kevin Saunderson,
Supertramp,
The Tremeloes,
Hoover,
Faust,
Clear Light,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Vogues,
Toni Rubio,
Howard Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Barclay James Harvest,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kool Moe Dee,
David McCallum,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radiohead,
a-ha,
Tim Buckley,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Darondo,
Drexciya,
Donny Hathaway,
Main Source,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
Nico,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jerry's Kids,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rhythm & Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mantronix,
Con Funk Shun,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Amazonics,
Max Romeo,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Trojans,
Technova,
Wasted Youth,
The Sonics,
The Stooges,
MDC,
Glenn Branca,
Lungfish,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker,
Groovy Waters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Make Up,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.