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 Iran and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dead Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Matthew Bourne,
Quadrant,
The Seeds,
Eurythmics,
The Fugs,
Isaac Hayes,
Bootsy Collins,
Absolute Body Control,
Erykah Badu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pere Ubu,
Masters at Work,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Flag,
The Velvet Underground,
The Detroit Cobras,
Au Pairs,
Scratch Acid,
Easy Going,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rotary Connection,
Black Sheep,
Funky Four + One,
Wings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Raincoats,
D'Angelo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Technova,
The Motions,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Liliput,
The Kinks,
Gong,
Simply Red,
Banda Bassotti,
The Selecter,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Music Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bauhaus,
The Slackers,
Hot Snakes,
Letta Mbulu,
The Walker Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare,
Scrapy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
H. Thieme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Anthony Braxton,
Yaz,
Eli Mardock,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.