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 Germany and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bush Tetras to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Trumans Water,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Piero Umiliani,
48th St. Collective,
Duran Duran,
Monolake,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tropical Tobacco,
The American Breed,
The Leaves,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fuzztones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bootsy Collins,
Malaria!,
Sight & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Silicon Teens,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
Magma,
Chrome,
Supertramp,
Oblivians,
Funkadelic,
DJ Sneak,
Yaz,
Delta 5,
Lakeside,
June of 44,
Khruangbin,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blues Magoos,
The Human League,
Erykah Badu,
Pantaleimon,
The J.B.'s,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
Audionom,
Smog,
Motorama,
New York Dolls,
Darondo,
Tom Boy,
Infiniti,
Ten City,
Fugazi,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Velvet Underground,
Quantec,
The Golliwogs,
Magazine,
Charles Mingus,
Brand Nubian,
Massinfluence,
Gang Gang Dance,
Von Mondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.