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 Luxembourg and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 David Bowie 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 China Crisis to the electroclash 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Todd Terry,
The Index,
The Martian,
Lungfish,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
The Cramps,
Drexciya,
Amazonics,
Rotary Connection,
Heaven 17,
The Smiths,
Curtis Mayfield,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kas Product,
Rufus Thomas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amon Düül,
Motorama,
The Move,
The Buckinghams,
Eden Ahbez,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masters at Work,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Freddie Wadling,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Sällskapet,
Gabor Szabo,
Qualms,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chris & Cosey,
Sonic Youth,
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
Howard Jones,
Technova,
D'Angelo,
The Gladiators,
Bad Manners,
Pussy Galore,
Mark Hollis,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Machine,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra,
The Slackers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hashim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Barracudas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
Television,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.