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 San Marino and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Throbbing Gristle to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Fela Kuti,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Motions,
Mad Mike,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Basic Channel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
The Doors,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Five Americans,
Liliput,
Maurizio,
Robert Hood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stereo Dub,
Franke,
Swell Maps,
Hardrive,
Oblivians,
The Misunderstood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sarah Menescal,
X-Ray Spex,
The Leaves,
Juan Atkins,
Derrick May,
The Blackbyrds,
Easy Going,
Metal Thangz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul II Soul,
Panda Bear,
Althea and Donna,
Eden Ahbez,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Siglo XX,
Gang of Four,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronan,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
ABC,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun City Girls,
Second Layer,
Duran Duran,
The Busters,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Walker Brothers,
The Wake,
The Dave Clark Five,
Television,
Circle Jerks,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.