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 Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Unwound to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Interpol,
Pantytec,
The Vogues,
Sonic Youth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wire,
The Fortunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mad Mike,
China Crisis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rapeman,
The Gap Band,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dead C,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
June Days,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Mills,
The Smiths,
U.S. Maple,
Boredoms,
John Holt,
Q65,
Thompson Twins,
This Heat,
Marc Almond,
E-Dancer,
Oneida,
Hashim,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dirtbombs,
Zapp,
Dual Sessions,
Wally Richardson,
Dennis Brown,
Swell Maps,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Divine Comedy,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
Junior Murvin,
The Fire Engines,
The Pretty Things,
KRS-One,
Jerry's Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Leonard Cohen,
Hot Snakes,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.