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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scratch Acid,
Moebius,
the Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris & Cosey,
Faust,
Blossom Toes,
Fear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Peter and Kerry,
Dual Sessions,
Circle Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Nico,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dead C,
Ronan,
Bobby Byrd,
Niagra,
Todd Terry,
Infiniti,
Bob Dylan,
Harmonia,
The Gories,
The Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Reuben Wilson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tubeway Army,
Skaos,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quantec,
Eurythmics,
The Techniques,
The Slackers,
Mr. Review,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Hood,
The Gun Club,
Kool Moe Dee,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Buzzcocks,
Yazoo,
The Litter,
Bad Manners,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mantronix,
Brass Construction,
Sarah Menescal,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.