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 Montenegro and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 DJ Style to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Germs,
Icehouse,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lower 48,
D'Angelo,
Soft Machine,
R.M.O.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ten City,
Archie Shepp,
Los Fastidios,
Mo-Dettes,
10cc,
David Axelrod,
Neu!,
Anthony Braxton,
Bob Dylan,
kango's stein massive,
Duran Duran,
Ituana,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chrome,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hasil Adkins,
Josef K,
Don Cherry,
Brand Nubian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minnie Riperton,
Ice-T,
Severed Heads,
Newcleus,
Ultravox,
New Order,
Thee Headcoats,
Marc Almond,
Sam Rivers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maleditus Sound,
Bad Manners,
Crash Course in Science,
the Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Althea and Donna,
The Shadows of Knight,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
a-ha,
The Toasters,
The Trojans,
Arthur Verocai,
Prince Buster,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.