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 Lesotho and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Vladislav Delay to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Index,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pylon,
Moss Icon,
Amazonics,
Sandy B,
Nick Fraelich,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arthur Verocai,
China Crisis,
Fluxion,
Pole,
Fear,
Man Eating Sloth,
D'Angelo,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure,
The Kinks,
48th St. Collective,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Motions,
Fat Boys,
Fad Gadget,
R.M.O.,
OOIOO,
Roxette,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Royal Trux,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David Axelrod,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arcadia,
The Black Dice,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Junior Murvin,
Idris Muhammad,
10cc,
Bootsy Collins,
Juan Atkins,
Radio Birdman,
Darondo,
Crooked Eye,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Parrish,
Nils Olav,
Reuben Wilson,
Kaleidoscope,
Brass Construction,
The Cure,
Malaria!,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.