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 Brunei and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Nico to the techno 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
The Cramps,
Nik Kershaw,
Lyres,
The Move,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moby Grape,
Simply Red,
Severed Heads,
Minny Pops,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Zero Boys,
Little Man,
DNA,
The Victims,
The Velvet Underground,
Brick,
Steve Hackett,
Kaleidoscope,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Inner City,
Fad Gadget,
The Cowsills,
David McCallum,
Joensuu 1685,
Excepter,
Gabor Szabo,
Alice Coltrane,
Sight & Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Jeff Mills,
Von Mondo,
Smog,
Can,
The Cure,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masters at Work,
June Days,
Lower 48,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
Chris Corsano,
Audionom,
Dark Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Guru Guru,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Unwound,
Neil Young,
Soulsonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
Wire,
The Remains,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonic Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Dawn Penn,
The Gories,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.