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 Lithuania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Happenings 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
the Human League,
Sun City Girls,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
Quantec,
Flash Fearless,
Simply Red,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Neu!,
The Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joy Division,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
Reuben Wilson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alice Coltrane,
Toni Rubio,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Subhumans,
Althea and Donna,
The Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Doors,
Thompson Twins,
Mad Mike,
Cluster,
Nas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
8 Eyed Spy,
F. McDonald,
Ohio Players,
Brass Construction,
The Music Machine,
Dead Boys,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Halsall,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bad Manners,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minor Threat,
Juan Atkins,
Warren Ellis,
Ludus,
Maurizio,
Sister Nancy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.