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 Malawi and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Angry Samoans to the techno 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Crooked Eye,
The Misunderstood,
Monks,
The Trojans,
Graham Central Station,
The Motions,
Quando Quango,
the Swans,
Cameo,
Porter Ricks,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
The Searchers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dennis Brown,
Anthony Braxton,
Grauzone,
Michelle Simonal,
Nils Olav,
Howard Jones,
Sällskapet,
Rosa Yemen,
Skaos,
The Associates,
Outsiders,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angry Samoans,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Angels of Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Wasted Youth,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
Bob Dylan,
Little Man,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Holt,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Infiniti,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
the Normal,
The Slackers,
Yellowson,
John Foxx,
Camberwell Now,
Sixth Finger,
Barrington Levy,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Velvet Underground,
Deakin,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
Sugar Minott,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brick,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.