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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DNA to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Inner City,
The Saints,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scientists,
Essential Logic,
The Barracudas,
Wire,
Cymande,
Thee Headcoats,
Deadbeat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Suicide,
Theoretical Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Khruangbin,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Mars,
The New Christs,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Sherman,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
New Order,
Symarip,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
Radio Birdman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funkadelic,
Cheater Slicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vladislav Delay,
Peter and Kerry,
Malaria!,
10cc,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Grandmaster Flash,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
48th St. Collective,
Ultra Naté,
Quantec,
Bush Tetras,
Rapeman,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
Porter Ricks,
Severed Heads,
Lakeside,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.