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 Ethiopia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the jazz 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Five Americans,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pagans,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monks,
Fat Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Stereo Dub,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pop Group,
Sound Behaviour,
Scion,
Dawn Penn,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faraquet,
Marvin Gaye,
La Düsseldorf,
Lucky Dragons,
Unrelated Segments,
Howard Jones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
Marmalade,
Suburban Knight,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Christie,
Pere Ubu,
Warren Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
John Foxx,
Cal Tjader,
The Last Poets,
Maurizio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Make Up,
New Age Steppers,
The Black Dice,
Wings,
Aaron Thompson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gun Club,
Iggy Pop,
Blossom Toes,
kango's stein massive,
Jacob Miller,
The Standells,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.