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 Turkmenistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Human League to the dance 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delta 5,
Janne Schatter,
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
Scrapy,
Funky Four + One,
Rekid,
The Index,
Danielle Patucci,
Severed Heads,
Motorama,
Henry Cow,
Depeche Mode,
The Durutti Column,
Pulsallama,
Pussy Galore,
The Cramps,
Scratch Acid,
The Monks,
The Moleskins,
Nas,
Fluxion,
FM Einheit,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
Tim Buckley,
Khruangbin,
Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Y Pants,
David Axelrod,
Hoover,
Tomorrow,
Monks,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bad Manners,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television Personalities,
Mission of Burma,
Marvin Gaye,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rites of Spring,
The Sonics,
Guru Guru,
Sarah Menescal,
KRS-One,
Subhumans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Modern Lovers,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.