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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Johnny Clarke to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Half Japanese,
Duran Duran,
Ronan,
Roxette,
Swell Maps,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Camouflage,
Scratch Acid,
Smog,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
Kurtis Blow,
Wally Richardson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boogie Down Productions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tears for Fears,
FM Einheit,
The Monochrome Set,
Mr. Review,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
Aural Exciters,
James White and The Blacks,
Anakelly,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kayak,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
the Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
Ludus,
Reuben Wilson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jacob Miller,
Eurythmics,
Hasil Adkins,
The Seeds,
Sällskapet,
The Music Machine,
The Wake,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Sheep,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.