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 Germany and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Roger Hodgson to the crunk 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
the Germs,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans,
David Bowie,
Motorama,
Nas,
EPMD,
John Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Easy Going,
Nirvana,
Dark Day,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalann,
Jacques Brel,
Kenny Larkin,
Fluxion,
Newcleus,
Groovy Waters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vladislav Delay,
Bad Manners,
The Gap Band,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cluster,
The Litter,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mandrill,
The Cure,
Pantaleimon,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Smooth,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Alison Limerick,
Letta Mbulu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
Young Marble Giants,
Magma,
Roxy Music,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox,
The Golliwogs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jeff Mills,
One Last Wish,
Derrick Morgan,
Archie Shepp,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.