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 Armenia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rap 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
The New Christs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monochrome Set,
K-Klass,
Newcleus,
The Remains,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Clarke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lindisfarne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
China Crisis,
Pantaleimon,
The Blues Magoos,
Saccharine Trust,
Neu!,
Leonard Cohen,
Faraquet,
Outsiders,
the Normal,
Lee Hazlewood,
World's Most,
Wings,
Average White Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Juan Atkins,
Soft Machine,
Mars,
D'Angelo,
Brick,
Lalann,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fugazi,
Jandek,
Andrew Hill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Adolescents,
The Raincoats,
The Blackbyrds,
The Wake,
Tres Demented,
Shoche,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Style,
The Busters,
Aswad,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Letta Mbulu,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eddi Front,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.