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 Croatia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Alison Limerick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Funky Four + One,
Niagra,
Jeru the Damaja,
EPMD,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
Graham Central Station,
Rites of Spring,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Leaves,
Ludus,
Wally Richardson,
The Electric Prunes,
Rotary Connection,
Metal Thangz,
48th St. Collective,
Boredoms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Move,
Wings,
Blossom Toes,
Grauzone,
The Gladiators,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Clear Light,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scan 7,
Radio Birdman,
Scion,
Masters at Work,
June of 44,
Technova,
Dave Gahan,
Fad Gadget,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Average White Band,
D'Angelo,
The Star Department,
The Skatalites,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gerry Rafferty,
La Düsseldorf,
Japan,
Popol Vuh,
Sparks,
Bush Tetras,
The Slits,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The United States of America,
Sarah Menescal,
Buzzcocks,
The Fugs,
The Human League,
Desert Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.