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 Hungary and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Saints to the electroclash 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nico,
Ten City,
Crooked Eye,
Crime,
Amon Düül,
the Association,
Kerri Chandler,
The Moleskins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Danielle Patucci,
Au Pairs,
Stiv Bators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Brass Construction,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Robert Wyatt,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Black Flag,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suburban Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
Minor Threat,
Jeff Mills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Babytalk,
Bill Wells,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boredoms,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
The Cowsills,
The Litter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultravox,
Marvin Gaye,
New York Dolls,
David McCallum,
Marc Almond,
Organ,
Lindisfarne,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.