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 Romania and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 John Holt to the dance 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Names,
Kas Product,
Ossler,
Harmonia,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Darondo,
The Mummies,
Josef K,
Big Daddy Kane,
Goldenarms,
Lower 48,
Boredoms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heaven 17,
Colin Newman,
Intrusion,
Todd Rundgren,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vainqueur,
Hashim,
Wally Richardson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Buckinghams,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stiv Bators,
Fugazi,
Bootsy Collins,
Dark Day,
Clear Light,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thompson Twins,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Bar-Kays,
Eve St. Jones,
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Byron Stingily,
OOIOO,
Trumans Water,
Agitation Free,
Barclay James Harvest,
Smog,
Pussy Galore,
The Wake,
Bill Near,
Yellowson,
Rufus Thomas,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
Avey Tare,
Gong,
Mission of Burma,
E-Dancer,
Silicon Teens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
The Music Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.