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 Mozambique and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lalann to the techno 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
Pantytec,
Barbara Tucker,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare,
Niagra,
The Evens,
Dawn Penn,
Nas,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Fraelich,
Girls At Our Best!,
Underground Resistance,
Angry Samoans,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Basic Channel,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
FM Einheit,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Livin' Joy,
The Smoke,
L. Decosne,
Blancmange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dark Day,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Agitation Free,
Procol Harum,
The Fuzztones,
Bad Manners,
Arcadia,
Sarah Menescal,
Fear,
Lyres,
Outsiders,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bauhaus,
Unwound,
Main Source,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pulsallama,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mr. Review,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soft Cell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.