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 Norway and from London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fat Boys 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Echospace,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
cv313,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Offenders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quadrant,
MC5,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
Pagans,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt,
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon,
Gichy Dan,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
The Motions,
The Smoke,
Saccharine Trust,
Massinfluence,
E-Dancer,
Roxette,
DJ Style,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Cameo,
Terry Callier,
Hot Snakes,
The Dirtbombs,
Banda Bassotti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
The Zeros,
Henry Cow,
Nils Olav,
Sugar Minott,
David Bowie,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.