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 Uganda and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 LL Cool J to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Toasters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Whodini,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arthur Verocai,
Animal Collective,
Eddi Front,
Nik Kershaw,
the Bar-Kays,
Flash Fearless,
Roy Ayers,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
June Days,
Sexual Harrassment,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Bourne,
Barrington Levy,
The Stooges,
Nation of Ulysses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-102,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Bananas,
Alton Ellis,
The Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dennis Brown,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bronski Beat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Livin' Joy,
Panda Bear,
MDC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Siglo XX,
The Gories,
Ohio Players,
Skaos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Amazonics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Alphaville,
Au Pairs,
Deepchord,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
The Cowsills,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pop Group,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Doors,
Fat Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.