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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Dirtbombs,
Junior Murvin,
Wolf Eyes,
Scrapy,
Yazoo,
The Cowsills,
EPMD,
The Moody Blues,
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sound Behaviour,
The Smiths,
Shoche,
Bob Dylan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wings,
Eli Mardock,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlback,
Althea and Donna,
Mission of Burma,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Kaleidoscope,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare,
Patti Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
H. Thieme,
La Düsseldorf,
Blossom Toes,
Pagans,
The Remains,
Matthew Bourne,
The Monochrome Set,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quando Quango,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arthur Verocai,
Circle Jerks,
Brothers Johnson,
Archie Shepp,
The Young Rascals,
Roger Hodgson,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Pussy Galore,
Minutemen,
Charles Mingus,
Skriet,
Nirvana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.