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 Morocco and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Barry Ungar to the techno 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Jawbox,
Grey Daturas,
The Five Americans,
Tim Buckley,
Oneida,
The Moleskins,
New Age Steppers,
Swell Maps,
Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Nils Olav,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Altered Images,
The Litter,
Symarip,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Franke,
The Dead C,
Erykah Badu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Little Man,
The Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun Ra,
the Bar-Kays,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Hill,
Hashim,
Tears for Fears,
Mandrill,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
LL Cool J,
ABC,
Ossler,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moody Blues,
T.S.O.L.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ludus,
Chrome,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Finger,
F. McDonald,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Quadrant,
Mary Jane Girls,
E-Dancer,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Yusef Lateef,
Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.