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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Todd Terry,
Juan Atkins,
Qualms,
Theoretical Girls,
Make Up,
Siglo XX,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Audionom,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Quadrant,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak,
The Red Krayola,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Byron Stingily,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
Black Flag,
Goldenarms,
New Order,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Standells,
Joy Division,
Au Pairs,
Tom Boy,
The Slackers,
Suicide,
Sister Nancy,
JFA,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
Trumans Water,
The Move,
Ken Boothe,
Sexual Harrassment,
World's Most,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Stetsasonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ossler,
Deakin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Al Stewart,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalann,
Eric B and Rakim,
KRS-One,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lower 48,
Silicon Teens,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.