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 Serbia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb 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 Jacques Brel to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Sister Nancy,
Laurel Aitken,
X-102,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Can,
Pulsallama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
EPMD,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
Barbara Tucker,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
OOIOO,
Crime,
The Vogues,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
Todd Terry,
Joensuu 1685,
Crispian St. Peters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Wells,
the Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
ABC,
Depeche Mode,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Techniques,
Magma,
New York Dolls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sandy B,
The Skatalites,
The Real Kids,
Reagan Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sonic Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Velvet Underground,
Agitation Free,
John Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Funky Four + One,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.