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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Association to the disco 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a rhodes 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 a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Leonard Cohen,
Simply Red,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacob Miller,
Pussy Galore,
Colin Newman,
Groovy Waters,
The Slits,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Leaves,
The Real Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Graham Central Station,
Crooked Eye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brass Construction,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Kinks,
Au Pairs,
Masters at Work,
Inner City,
Glenn Branca,
The Cosmic Jokers,
World's Most,
Guru Guru,
Magazine,
Franke,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
The American Breed,
John Coltrane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Smooth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Tremeloes,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Quando Quango,
Blancmange,
Intrusion,
Eric Dolphy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Symarip,
Maurizio,
Eric B and Rakim,
China Crisis,
The Grass Roots,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Danielle Patucci,
Dawn Penn,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.