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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
H. Thieme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lightning Bolt,
The Names,
Roger Hodgson,
Dark Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marmalade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
Iggy Pop,
Chris & Cosey,
Idris Muhammad,
Groovy Waters,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Tim Buckley,
Cameo,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Oblivians,
the Fania All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
CMW,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mary Jane Girls,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Alphaville,
FM Einheit,
Monolake,
Jeff Lynne,
The Slackers,
Blossom Toes,
Ken Boothe,
D'Angelo,
Flash Fearless,
Funkadelic,
Moss Icon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David McCallum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Cecil Taylor,
Cybotron,
Eve St. Jones,
Motorama,
Visage,
Harmonia,
The Barracudas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.