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 Nepal and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Bootsy Collins,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
Fatback Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
MDC,
Wings,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare,
Sam Rivers,
The Blackbyrds,
Altered Images,
Organ,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pere Ubu,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
DJ Sneak,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mr. Review,
Todd Rundgren,
cv313,
The Smiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tres Demented,
The Last Poets,
UT,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
Quadrant,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Royal Trux,
Althea and Donna,
Sandy B,
Scrapy,
Jacob Miller,
Suicide,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
Surgeon,
Bauhaus,
The Saints,
Dead Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Crooked Eye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Near,
Skriet,
Kaleidoscope,
Jimmy McGriff,
Essential Logic,
Rakim,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.