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 Papua New Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Cure to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Public Enemy,
Black Bananas,
The Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alice Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
The Golliwogs,
Erykah Badu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yazoo,
X-102,
Quando Quango,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dave Gahan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Young Rascals,
Silicon Teens,
Mr. Review,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gun Club,
The Knickerbockers,
Marmalade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Duran Duran,
Little Man,
Skaos,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Tom Boy,
The Mummies,
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Terry,
Franke,
X-101,
Gang Green,
Mantronix,
The New Christs,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erasure,
Hardrive,
Warsaw,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Almond,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy Collins,
Barry Ungar,
Simply Red,
Yusef Lateef,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.