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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
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 theremin 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 Todd Rundgren to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Crime,
Minnie Riperton,
The Happenings,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Porter Ricks,
Los Fastidios,
Barrington Levy,
Procol Harum,
Aswad,
Technova,
Pantaleimon,
Ronnie Foster,
Bang On A Can,
Judy Mowatt,
Godley & Creme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Freddie Wadling,
KRS-One,
Frankie Knuckles,
Adolescents,
Neu!,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
F. McDonald,
The Durutti Column,
Bronski Beat,
Vladislav Delay,
June of 44,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Human League,
The Gap Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Near,
Slave,
Donald Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
Lungfish,
Au Pairs,
Neil Young,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Raincoats,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
Soft Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yusef Lateef,
Quantec,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
a-ha,
The Black Dice,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cecil Taylor,
Mantronix,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.