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 Brazil and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 the Bar-Kays to the rock 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '70s.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Little Man,
Jacques Brel,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun Ra,
The Monochrome Set,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Frankie Knuckles,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
Brand Nubian,
The Music Machine,
X-101,
Rekid,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
Camouflage,
kango's stein massive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
B.T. Express,
Metal Thangz,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Five Americans,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Martian,
the Germs,
Lyres,
The Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Womack,
Danielle Patucci,
Popol Vuh,
Erykah Badu,
Dave Gahan,
Donny Hathaway,
Neu!,
Kerri Chandler,
Nirvana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Judy Mowatt,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
The United States of America,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pierre Henry,
Blossom Toes,
The Mummies,
Joy Division,
PIL,
Rod Modell,
Altered Images,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Graham Central Station,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.