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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Anthony Braxton to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
Donald Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
The Red Krayola,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Von Mondo,
Basic Channel,
Isaac Hayes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ohio Players,
Albert Ayler,
Janne Schatter,
The Victims,
The Young Rascals,
Nik Kershaw,
David Bowie,
KRS-One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
Brand Nubian,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
ABBA,
The Standells,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul II Soul,
L. Decosne,
Oneida,
The Techniques,
kango's stein massive,
Vainqueur,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Radiohead,
Sällskapet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan,
Fad Gadget,
Nick Fraelich,
The Detroit Cobras,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Zeros,
Bush Tetras,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pulsallama,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Bananas,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.