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 Cyprus and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Kenny Larkin to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Slick Rick,
Mandrill,
Q65,
Letta Mbulu,
Joey Negro,
U.S. Maple,
Josef K,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nico,
Pussy Galore,
Malaria!,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Alarm Clocks,
Adolescents,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mad Mike,
The Sound,
The Last Poets,
Anthony Braxton,
Sällskapet,
Sam Rivers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Real Kids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young,
Spoonie Gee,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Residents,
Camouflage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Lydon,
The Durutti Column,
Sexual Harrassment,
FM Einheit,
Davy DMX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Motorama,
Jacques Brel,
Stiv Bators,
The Beau Brummels,
Depeche Mode,
ABBA,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Scan 7,
Talk Talk,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.