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 Nicaragua and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Davy DMX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Grey Daturas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Model 500,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Laurel Aitken,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
Nas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Agent Orange,
Stetsasonic,
Yellowson,
Eurythmics,
Little Man,
The Angels of Light,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
Rapeman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Patti Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bad Manners,
Marshall Jefferson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nick Fraelich,
Fugazi,
Chrome,
Visage,
Theoretical Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scratch Acid,
Tim Buckley,
Alphaville,
MDC,
Todd Rundgren,
Barrington Levy,
Y Pants,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crash Course in Science,
Television,
Whodini,
Guru Guru,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
X-101,
The Vogues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anakelly,
Index,
Second Layer,
AZ,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.