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 Iceland and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the rock 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Main Source,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Yaz,
Lakeside,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
Lindisfarne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Groovy Waters,
Oblivians,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
cv313,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
Panda Bear,
Glambeats Corp.,
Flash Fearless,
Yellowson,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
Lightning Bolt,
Suburban Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DNA,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fugazi,
Fatback Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Circle Jerks,
Slave,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
Echospace,
Howard Jones,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thompson Twins,
Unwound,
Mr. Review,
Brick,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.