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 Cuba and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the techno 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Victims,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
Donald Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Birthday Party,
Easy Going,
Nirvana,
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios,
Ohio Players,
Public Enemy,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Clarke,
Jacques Brel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scientists,
The Trojans,
Ten City,
Flash Fearless,
Cheater Slicks,
Fad Gadget,
Jeff Mills,
Popol Vuh,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dave Gahan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brand Nubian,
Cal Tjader,
Kas Product,
Boredoms,
Tubeway Army,
Matthew Halsall,
Peter and Kerry,
The Human League,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Moon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rufus Thomas,
David Axelrod,
Symarip,
Eurythmics,
Nick Fraelich,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cowsills,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang of Four,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
Livin' Joy,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fire Engines,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.