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 Barbados and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Kevin Saunderson 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
New York Dolls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boz Scaggs,
Quadrant,
Bad Manners,
Tubeway Army,
Sight & Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
Radiopuhelimet,
Qualms,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
The Standells,
Desert Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Starr,
Visage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
the Association,
The Count Five,
Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Al Stewart,
Fela Kuti,
Pussy Galore,
Steve Hackett,
Angry Samoans,
Matthew Halsall,
Metal Thangz,
Thee Headcoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
X-101,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Procol Harum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
Susan Cadogan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric Dolphy,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.