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 Macedonia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 Deadbeat to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Modern Lovers,
Oblivians,
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
Chris & Cosey,
Kas Product,
Dead Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Main Source,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Sonics,
Funky Four + One,
Ralphi Rosario,
The J.B.'s,
Schoolly D,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
The Fortunes,
Janne Schatter,
Desert Stars,
The Victims,
The Dead C,
Guru Guru,
Man Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Scan 7,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun,
John Foxx,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
Reagan Youth,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter and Kerry,
Agitation Free,
ABC,
The Count Five,
DJ Style,
Ossler,
Oneida,
Danielle Patucci,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Martian,
Donald Byrd,
Tim Buckley,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Teasers,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
U.S. Maple,
kango's stein massive,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick May,
Thompson Twins,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.