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 Syria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Dead C to the electroclash 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Flash Fearless,
Derrick Morgan,
the Human League,
The Shadows of Knight,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Skaos,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacques Brel,
Erykah Badu,
Pylon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Amon Düül,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cecil Taylor,
Average White Band,
Roy Ayers,
the Soft Cell,
Mars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stereo Dub,
Marmalade,
The Misunderstood,
Shoche,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
Metal Thangz,
Rapeman,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Trojans,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-102,
Clear Light,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Remains,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Silicon Teens,
Qualms,
Tim Buckley,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
Malaria!,
Black Sheep,
The Happenings,
Lucky Dragons,
Arab on Radar,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.