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 Morocco and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Easy Going to the grime 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
The Techniques,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Infiniti,
Bad Manners,
The Dirtbombs,
Suicide,
The United States of America,
Sex Pistols,
Sam Rivers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Skatalites,
Wings,
Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
Warren Ellis,
Pole,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scientists,
Isaac Hayes,
David McCallum,
Gerry Rafferty,
Juan Atkins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Main Source,
Parry Music,
The Wake,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Slave,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Green,
Depeche Mode,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mars,
Reuben Wilson,
Alice Coltrane,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.