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 Moldova and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the grime 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Five Americans,
Barbara Tucker,
Trumans Water,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Starr,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Liliput,
Schoolly D,
The Evens,
Jandek,
Shuggie Otis,
Joey Negro,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
Gabor Szabo,
Grauzone,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Mills,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Near,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ituana,
A Certain Ratio,
Nils Olav,
F. McDonald,
Robert Görl,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
World's Most,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deakin,
Icehouse,
Toni Rubio,
Joy Division,
Cheater Slicks,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
Derrick Morgan,
Freddie Wadling,
Thompson Twins,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
Sound Behaviour,
the Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moebius,
Graham Central Station,
Little Man,
Matthew Halsall,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.