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 Ethiopia and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Ponytail,
T.S.O.L.,
Marc Almond,
Unrelated Segments,
The Invisible,
Q and Not U,
The Walker Brothers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Remains,
Public Enemy,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sandy B,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
The American Breed,
Clear Light,
Pantaleimon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jerry's Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Aural Exciters,
Suicide,
Toni Rubio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
One Last Wish,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalo Schifrin,
FM Einheit,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Mills,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Move,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Michelle Simonal,
Prince Buster,
Bauhaus,
Anthony Braxton,
Monolake,
Gabor Szabo,
Joy Division,
Donald Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Accadde A,
Lalann,
Schoolly D,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.