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 Ghana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum 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 Scan 7 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Alphaville,
Godley & Creme,
The Index,
Silicon Teens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
Hashim,
Lightning Bolt,
Monks,
CMW,
Jerry's Kids,
Wally Richardson,
Cameo,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Massinfluence,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
Depeche Mode,
Eddi Front,
Soul II Soul,
Black Pus,
The Dirtbombs,
Saccharine Trust,
Howard Jones,
The Victims,
Deepchord,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Buckinghams,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
L. Decosne,
The Leaves,
The American Breed,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Five Americans,
Kaleidoscope,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faust,
the Swans,
Agent Orange,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skarface,
Marmalade,
Blossom Toes,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare,
Camouflage,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Average White Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Style,
The Litter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
Monolake,
Bang On A Can,
Matthew Halsall,
T. Rex,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.