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 Argentina and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Inner City to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ituana,
John Lydon,
JFA,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Depeche Mode,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
Infiniti,
Neil Young,
Marvin Gaye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dave Gahan,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Vogues,
the Sonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Los Fastidios,
Junior Murvin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stetsasonic,
Groovy Waters,
New Age Steppers,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Mills,
Lindisfarne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Graham Central Station,
Faraquet,
Ossler,
Carl Craig,
Jawbox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Don Cherry,
Country Teasers,
June Days,
Khruangbin,
The Saints,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
the Swans,
10cc,
Gastr Del Sol,
Isaac Hayes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
The Fortunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.