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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Henry Cow to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Khruangbin,
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano,
X-101,
Nirvana,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fatback Band,
The Red Krayola,
Babytalk,
Arcadia,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Bourne,
D'Angelo,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Hot Snakes,
Ludus,
Hasil Adkins,
Mission of Burma,
KRS-One,
Joyce Sims,
Todd Terry,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Pop Group,
Donald Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work,
Suicide,
The Vogues,
Smog,
Eden Ahbez,
ABBA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Leaves,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
The Music Machine,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
Man Parrish,
Yellowson,
Metal Thangz,
OOIOO,
Visage,
The Gories,
The Velvet Underground,
Hoover,
F. McDonald,
David McCallum,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Yusef Lateef,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.