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 Bolivia and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Al Stewart to the electroclash 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New Order,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
New Age Steppers,
Scientists,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rapeman,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Durutti Column,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Kaleidoscope,
Whodini,
Excepter,
FM Einheit,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quadrant,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Janne Schatter,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Finger,
Nas,
the Normal,
Sonic Youth,
The United States of America,
The Dirtbombs,
Flipper,
Barrington Levy,
Depeche Mode,
The Monochrome Set,
Joyce Sims,
Freddie Wadling,
Surgeon,
Camberwell Now,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scratch Acid,
Newcleus,
La Düsseldorf,
Boredoms,
The Monks,
Bootsy Collins,
Joensuu 1685,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pulsallama,
Lakeside,
The Remains,
Stetsasonic,
Donald Byrd,
Tom Boy,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.