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 Thailand and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Procol Harum to the crunk 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Nas,
Jawbox,
Chris Corsano,
The Techniques,
The Victims,
X-102,
Infiniti,
Sex Pistols,
Sun City Girls,
The Searchers,
Wasted Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Basic Channel,
Marvin Gaye,
Ice-T,
Yellowson,
The Star Department,
Blossom Toes,
Eli Mardock,
Minutemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monolake,
Cybotron,
The Divine Comedy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Procol Harum,
Depeche Mode,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rakim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nik Kershaw,
U.S. Maple,
Pantytec,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lakeside,
The Moleskins,
Parry Music,
T. Rex,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
The Young Rascals,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
JFA,
B.T. Express,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sandy B,
The Raincoats,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
John Cale,
The Modern Lovers,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.