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 Mexico and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Das Ding to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Roxette,
The Red Krayola,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DNA,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
The Blackbyrds,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
Technova,
John Holt,
Scientists,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Janne Schatter,
Siglo XX,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers,
Hardrive,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The New Christs,
Soulsonic Force,
Chrome,
Skriet,
Lucky Dragons,
Simply Red,
Soft Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bill Wells,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Music Machine,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Khruangbin,
Deadbeat,
The Skatalites,
Gang Starr,
Howard Jones,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris & Cosey,
The Kinks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
World's Most,
Schoolly D,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joey Negro,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Mandrill,
The Busters,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.