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 Kiribati and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soft Cell to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tim Buckley,
The Walker Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Soul II Soul,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Shuggie Otis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joey Negro,
Minutemen,
Cecil Taylor,
Zero Boys,
Black Bananas,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Clarke,
the Germs,
Jandek,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vladislav Delay,
Flipper,
Public Image Ltd.,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
The Kinks,
Derrick Morgan,
MC5,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Infiniti,
New Order,
June Days,
Organ,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Sight & Sound,
Ituana,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Don Cherry,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Bang On A Can,
Cluster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kurtis Blow,
David Bowie,
Stereo Dub,
Blossom Toes,
Rosa Yemen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jacques Brel,
cv313,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Mojo Men,
Essential Logic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Todd Rundgren,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Freddie Wadling,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.