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 Guinea-Bissau and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Parry Music to the funk 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Theoretical Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
Swans,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Flipper,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
John Lydon,
Soul Sonic Force,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Maurizio,
Whodini,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Walker Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Henry Cow,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
Yaz,
The Names,
Crooked Eye,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Monks,
Hasil Adkins,
Rod Modell,
the Soft Cell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pole,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Fear,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ludus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fluxion,
Aural Exciters,
Tomorrow,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Patti Smith,
Bob Dylan,
LL Cool J,
Lou Reed,
Lucky Dragons,
Arab on Radar,
Wire,
X-Ray Spex,
Y Pants,
Piero Umiliani,
Slave,
Delta 5,
Scion,
David McCallum,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.