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 Austria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grunge 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Marvin Gaye,
Crooked Eye,
Mo-Dettes,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Age Steppers,
Ohio Players,
Black Sheep,
Popol Vuh,
the Bar-Kays,
Moebius,
The Last Poets,
Roger Hodgson,
Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Vogues,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sugar Minott,
Television,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Slits,
Country Teasers,
Con Funk Shun,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Byrd,
Public Enemy,
This Heat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Laurel Aitken,
Cameo,
Underground Resistance,
The Blackbyrds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Godley & Creme,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sound Behaviour,
Sandy B,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Janne Schatter,
Infiniti,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Newcleus,
Lalann,
The Motions,
Stiv Bators,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Deakin,
Heaven 17,
The Young Rascals,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ultravox,
Sam Rivers,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.