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 Malaysia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the disco 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Glenn Branca,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Starr,
Pantaleimon,
John Holt,
JFA,
Unrelated Segments,
The Trojans,
Robert Hood,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Clear Light,
Cluster,
CMW,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
The Golliwogs,
Y Pants,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare,
Steve Hackett,
Kevin Saunderson,
Siglo XX,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Banda Bassotti,
The Angels of Light,
Oblivians,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Goldenarms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Crime,
Little Man,
Alphaville,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Average White Band,
Eric Copeland,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Human League,
Porter Ricks,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dead C,
Eddi Front,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Magazine,
The Barracudas,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
Ohio Players,
Royal Trux,
Wasted Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.