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 Niger and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
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 Michael McDonald 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 Doobie Brothers to the jazz 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Toni Rubio,
Pole,
K-Klass,
Morten Harket,
Gang Gang Dance,
Make Up,
Fat Boys,
The Barracudas,
Altered Images,
Iggy Pop,
The Move,
Thompson Twins,
Tubeway Army,
the Swans,
Leonard Cohen,
Crime,
Quadrant,
Barry Ungar,
Bluetip,
Quantec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Roxette,
Joe Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Sonics,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
OOIOO,
Sight & Sound,
Agitation Free,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang On A Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter & Gordon,
The Modern Lovers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minnie Riperton,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
The Walker Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Dave Gahan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delta 5,
Echospace,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rufus Thomas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
The Evens,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ossler,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.