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 Cambodia and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moss Icon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Robert Hood,
Sarah Menescal,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Essential Logic,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
Wings,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Minny Pops,
Amon Düül II,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Reagan Youth,
Yazoo,
Danielle Patucci,
Roxette,
Wasted Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
Robert Wyatt,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Second Layer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls,
Zero Boys,
Scion,
The Mummies,
Porter Ricks,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Sherman,
The Modern Lovers,
The Evens,
Big Daddy Kane,
kango's stein massive,
Aural Exciters,
Unrelated Segments,
Skarface,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lower 48,
Tom Boy,
Amazonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Iggy Pop,
Dual Sessions,
Marmalade,
The Gun Club,
PIL,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flamin' Groovies,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yellowson,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.