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 Seychelles and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Aswad to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Gang Green,
Cluster,
Brand Nubian,
Alton Ellis,
Suicide,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Starr,
Funkadelic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joy Division,
The Remains,
Desert Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
D'Angelo,
Howard Jones,
David Bowie,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Clarke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
Derrick May,
Archie Shepp,
The Index,
Mark Hollis,
Sex Pistols,
Severed Heads,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bush Tetras,
The Star Department,
Procol Harum,
Hashim,
Lalann,
Motorama,
Stiv Bators,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mad Mike,
Steve Hackett,
Supertramp,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
The Selecter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
Model 500,
Lou Christie,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Standells,
Sonic Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Youth Brigade,
Donny Hathaway,
Groovy Waters,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.