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 Honduras and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
Black Sheep,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scion,
Erykah Badu,
The Names,
Malaria!,
Lucky Dragons,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Green,
Kas Product,
kango's stein massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Symarip,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tommy Roe,
Siglo XX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
AZ,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Parry Music,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mission of Burma,
Terry Callier,
KRS-One,
John Holt,
John Foxx,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Certain Ratio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
Davy DMX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Invisible,
Curtis Mayfield,
Average White Band,
Intrusion,
The Count Five,
Black Moon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Womack,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Reed,
Boredoms,
Saccharine Trust,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.