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 Slovenia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Electric Prunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Buzzcocks,
Quadrant,
Gang of Four,
Juan Atkins,
Cybotron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cal Tjader,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sparks,
H. Thieme,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Lungfish,
The Dead C,
Slick Rick,
Roxette,
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New York Dolls,
Joe Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Isaac Hayes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Crash Course in Science,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Unrelated Segments,
Urselle,
Visage,
the Association,
The Five Americans,
The Music Machine,
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alison Limerick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeff Lynne,
Monks,
Bad Manners,
Popol Vuh,
Minor Threat,
Colin Newman,
The Human League,
Chris Corsano,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.