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 Haiti and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 the Soft Cell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soulsonic Force,
the Swans,
Steve Hackett,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Loose Ends,
Accadde A,
Rakim,
Wolf Eyes,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Almond,
Grauzone,
E-Dancer,
The Black Dice,
Eyeless In Gaza,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Sherman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed,
Motorama,
Aloha Tigers,
Tomorrow,
In Retrospect,
Bill Wells,
The Dead C,
Eli Mardock,
Alphaville,
Country Teasers,
Liliput,
Joe Finger,
Kas Product,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fatback Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Soul II Soul,
Henry Cow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxette,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slave,
Icehouse,
Connie Case,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Negative Approach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.