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 Montenegro and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Leaves to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Hoover,
Silicon Teens,
Cybotron,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
Terry Callier,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blues Magoos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
The Skatalites,
Fatback Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
Aural Exciters,
The Pop Group,
John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marmalade,
The Five Americans,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Clarke,
A Certain Ratio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hasil Adkins,
Wire,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerri Chandler,
Qualms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
Echospace,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skarface,
Byron Stingily,
Ituana,
Lightning Bolt,
Joe Finger,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hot Snakes,
The Real Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ornette Coleman,
Monolake,
Urselle,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
The Misunderstood,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.