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 Liberia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Josef K,
The Fugs,
Main Source,
Hasil Adkins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
Severed Heads,
The Slackers,
the Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moebius,
the Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pere Ubu,
Hashim,
The American Breed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
Angry Samoans,
JFA,
Reuben Wilson,
Masters at Work,
Oblivians,
Faust,
Symarip,
The Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Sherman,
CMW,
Urselle,
Youth Brigade,
the Association,
Ken Boothe,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul II Soul,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Tomorrow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Fela Kuti,
Theoretical Girls,
The Selecter,
The Neon Judgement,
Audionom,
John Foxx,
MDC,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
John Holt,
Boz Scaggs,
Lower 48,
Magma,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.