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 Suriname and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 Ralphi Rosario to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
ABC,
Godley & Creme,
Skriet,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Danielle Patucci,
Visage,
The Smiths,
Rhythm & Sound,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
The Dirtbombs,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
Nirvana,
Connie Case,
Easy Going,
Hardrive,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
H. Thieme,
The Music Machine,
Bush Tetras,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bob Dylan,
The Techniques,
Vainqueur,
Rotary Connection,
kango's stein massive,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kenny Larkin,
The Angels of Light,
Shoche,
Max Romeo,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erasure,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Lynne,
Dennis Brown,
Los Fastidios,
Smog,
Peter and Kerry,
MDC,
David McCallum,
U.S. Maple,
The Gun Club,
New York Dolls,
Gang of Four,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.