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 Saudi Arabia and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Judy Mowatt to the rap 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
The Beau Brummels,
Delta 5,
Chris & Cosey,
The Alarm Clocks,
Patti Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
Rufus Thomas,
Don Cherry,
Faraquet,
Gang Starr,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
Nils Olav,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ludus,
Swell Maps,
The Monks,
Tomorrow,
K-Klass,
David McCallum,
Section 25,
Big Daddy Kane,
Franke,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
DJ Style,
Black Pus,
Matthew Bourne,
Mandrill,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Roxy Music,
Todd Terry,
Marine Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Donny Hathaway,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Scion,
a-ha,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultra Naté,
Sam Rivers,
Lungfish,
Rotary Connection,
The Sonics,
The Vogues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pole,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.