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 Italy and from Lagos.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
This Heat,
the Soft Cell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Symarip,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arcadia,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Can,
The Standells,
ABBA,
Sight & Sound,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nils Olav,
Pagans,
Metal Thangz,
Minor Threat,
U.S. Maple,
Scion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zero Boys,
Ultravox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Association,
Au Pairs,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moody Blues,
Moby Grape,
Half Japanese,
The Monochrome Set,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
The Neon Judgement,
Fear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Whodini,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
The Leaves,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeff Mills,
OOIOO,
CMW,
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fortunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cybotron,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.