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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Laurel Aitken to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Ice-T,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
Sparks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Faraquet,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Moby Grape,
The Standells,
Cecil Taylor,
Fela Kuti,
Zero Boys,
Deakin,
New York Dolls,
Au Pairs,
The Victims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sällskapet,
The Detroit Cobras,
H. Thieme,
Half Japanese,
David Bowie,
Shuggie Otis,
Royal Trux,
Icehouse,
Grey Daturas,
Jacques Brel,
Inner City,
Easy Going,
Funky Four + One,
Fad Gadget,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
James White and The Blacks,
Letta Mbulu,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Visage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Infiniti,
Buzzcocks,
Sonic Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
Matthew Bourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cameo,
The Invisible,
Young Marble Giants,
Radiohead,
Monolake,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Associates,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.