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 Denmark and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hot Snakes to the electroclash 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Loose Ends,
Bronski Beat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Byron Stingily,
Interpol,
Albert Ayler,
Arthur Verocai,
the Swans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sonic Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sparks,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Audionom,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Anakelly,
Brothers Johnson,
Marmalade,
Hasil Adkins,
Brick,
Minny Pops,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Unwound,
Au Pairs,
Qualms,
Y Pants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
The Move,
Reagan Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jawbox,
Erasure,
Absolute Body Control,
Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
John Foxx,
Ossler,
Little Man,
Ludus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Vogues,
Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
The Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.