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 Croatia and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Panda Bear to the crunk 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
the Soft Cell,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Schoolly D,
Blake Baxter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
New Order,
Gang of Four,
MC5,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Five Americans,
The Fall,
The Mojo Men,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Scratch Acid,
Tom Boy,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
R.M.O.,
Quadrant,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Move,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Raincoats,
DJ Style,
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Byrd,
Stiv Bators,
Underground Resistance,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Clarke,
The Leaves,
Maleditus Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
The Black Dice,
Accadde A,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
Boz Scaggs,
Darondo,
Ultravox,
Ronan,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
Chris Corsano,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
Loose Ends,
Depeche Mode,
Ultra Naté,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.