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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sonics to the grime 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The United States of America,
Toni Rubio,
Ohio Players,
Janne Schatter,
Soul II Soul,
Sam Rivers,
The Human League,
Tommy Roe,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Kerrie Biddell,
FM Einheit,
The J.B.'s,
Bill Wells,
Sun Ra,
Motorama,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Graham Central Station,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gichy Dan,
The Star Department,
Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith,
Ludus,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alphaville,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Near,
Deadbeat,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Knickerbockers,
PIL,
Ituana,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
World's Most,
Thompson Twins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stetsasonic,
Lakeside,
The Real Kids,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Music Machine,
Prince Buster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cramps,
The Kinks,
Funky Four + One,
Todd Terry,
Henry Cow,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.