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 Taiwan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Arab on Radar to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Eurythmics,
Suicide,
Oblivians,
The Dead C,
The J.B.'s,
Visage,
Pulsallama,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joy Division,
Ossler,
Bad Manners,
Boogie Down Productions,
June of 44,
Moebius,
Dual Sessions,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
the Human League,
Eve St. Jones,
The Modern Lovers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
Stereo Dub,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Malaria!,
Loose Ends,
Kurtis Blow,
E-Dancer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Adolescents,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare,
Erykah Badu,
X-102,
Marc Almond,
Tom Boy,
X-Ray Spex,
The Divine Comedy,
The Techniques,
Interpol,
Au Pairs,
The Music Machine,
Ituana,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Hood,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brick,
Heaven 17,
Tommy Roe,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Litter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Surgeon,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.