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 Luxembourg and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Second Layer to the grunge 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Mandrill,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fluxion,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
The Barracudas,
Tres Demented,
Con Funk Shun,
La Düsseldorf,
Anthony Braxton,
The Remains,
Circle Jerks,
Stiv Bators,
Stetsasonic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Sheep,
Qualms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ossler,
the Slits,
Crime,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
MC5,
Rufus Thomas,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Byrd,
Eurythmics,
Excepter,
JFA,
Thee Headcoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter and Kerry,
Rites of Spring,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scott Walker,
the Swans,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
UT,
Kenny Larkin,
Sandy B,
B.T. Express,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Inner City,
R.M.O.,
The Black Dice,
Maleditus Sound,
Goldenarms,
The Invisible,
Brass Construction,
The Walker Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
Severed Heads,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.