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 Burkina and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crime to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
China Crisis,
Davy DMX,
Amon Düül,
Max Romeo,
The Walker Brothers,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shoche,
ABBA,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Finger,
The Skatalites,
Jeff Lynne,
Iggy Pop,
Amon Düül II,
Buzzcocks,
Fugazi,
Joy Division,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Don Cherry,
Boz Scaggs,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
The Fugs,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Letta Mbulu,
Whodini,
Moby Grape,
K-Klass,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mission of Burma,
John Lydon,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minor Threat,
The Index,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
UT,
Bauhaus,
U.S. Maple,
Lebanon Hanover,
The J.B.'s,
Interpol,
Ultravox,
Los Fastidios,
Pagans,
E-Dancer,
Schoolly D,
Ice-T,
Slave,
Quantec,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Masters at Work,
Lightning Bolt,
the Soft Cell,
The Standells,
Sun Ra,
Guru Guru,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.