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 Cape Verde and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Rapeman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
The Human League,
Andrew Hill,
Au Pairs,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker,
Oblivians,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABBA,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
Eyeless In Gaza,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wings,
The Star Department,
Darondo,
Basic Channel,
Blossom Toes,
Donald Byrd,
Zapp,
The Gap Band,
Minor Threat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Subhumans,
The Standells,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Don Cherry,
Gong,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nik Kershaw,
F. McDonald,
Sun Ra,
Clear Light,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
Panda Bear,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Christie,
Eden Ahbez,
Technova,
48th St. Collective,
The Red Krayola,
Parry Music,
Maurizio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Infiniti,
Interpol,
Black Flag,
D'Angelo,
Derrick May,
Scan 7,
Alphaville,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.