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 Antigua and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
Bluetip,
the Germs,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry's Kids,
Symarip,
Blossom Toes,
Subhumans,
Black Flag,
Kerri Chandler,
Dennis Brown,
Main Source,
Gastr Del Sol,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Red Krayola,
Thee Headcoats,
Zapp,
Robert Hood,
Nick Fraelich,
DNA,
Drexciya,
Brand Nubian,
Albert Ayler,
Yellowson,
a-ha,
48th St. Collective,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echospace,
Wings,
The Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
Byron Stingily,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres,
Yazoo,
Suicide,
Banda Bassotti,
Sandy B,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rod Modell,
Inner City,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Stooges,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.