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 Belgium and from Bologna.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 Stiv Bators to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rotary Connection,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marine Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric Dolphy,
Stetsasonic,
U.S. Maple,
Sparks,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yaz,
The Knickerbockers,
Sixth Finger,
The Toasters,
Swans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Smog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier,
Chrome,
Tommy Roe,
Dennis Brown,
the Association,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick May,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Green,
Marmalade,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Steve Hackett,
The Monochrome Set,
The Music Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Womack,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bob Dylan,
Model 500,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Skaos,
Jerry's Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Barrington Levy,
Quantec,
Bluetip,
Lightning Bolt,
Ronan,
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Japan,
The Move,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalann,
Nik Kershaw,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.