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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
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 rhodes 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 Drexciya to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül,
Electric Prunes,
Interpol,
Pantaleimon,
Icehouse,
Skaos,
Stockholm Monsters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers,
Bad Manners,
Minny Pops,
Q65,
Gichy Dan,
John Holt,
Stereo Dub,
The Count Five,
Silicon Teens,
Quadrant,
Alison Limerick,
Blancmange,
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
Fatback Band,
The Names,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
Popol Vuh,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Goldenarms,
Juan Atkins,
Carl Craig,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moody Blues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Evens,
Delta 5,
Pylon,
Pagans,
Aloha Tigers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Theoretical Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Das Ding,
Kas Product,
Suburban Knight,
The Kinks,
Mantronix,
Von Mondo,
Cluster,
June of 44,
Little Man,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.