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 Brunei and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mighty Diamonds to the punk 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rekid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brand Nubian,
Glenn Branca,
The United States of America,
The Grass Roots,
Faraquet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Tom Boy,
New Age Steppers,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Real Kids,
Tres Demented,
Suicide,
The Star Department,
the Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
UT,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tears for Fears,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Franke,
Scrapy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultravox,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Smog,
Q and Not U,
The Cowsills,
Maurizio,
Drexciya,
Joyce Sims,
Los Fastidios,
Grey Daturas,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
The Standells,
Buzzcocks,
Tim Buckley,
Black Moon,
Bauhaus,
The Fall,
Suburban Knight,
The Happenings,
Drive Like Jehu,
Delta 5,
Jawbox,
Wolf Eyes,
La Düsseldorf,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monochrome Set,
Ornette Coleman,
Excepter,
the Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.