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 Syria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Liaisons Dangereuses 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Names,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Human League,
the Germs,
Qualms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Byrd,
Fatback Band,
The Young Rascals,
Reuben Wilson,
Malaria!,
Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Red Krayola,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Last Poets,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
Danielle Patucci,
Minutemen,
10cc,
Visage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joey Negro,
Shoche,
Television Personalities,
Pantaleimon,
Accadde A,
The Dirtbombs,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Underground Resistance,
Rotary Connection,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soul II Soul,
Quadrant,
Dead Boys,
The Wake,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crooked Eye,
Q65,
Kayak,
Oneida,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Moebius,
Soulsonic Force,
Deepchord,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.