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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Wasted Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Joe Finger,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
Todd Terry,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Almond,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Sheep,
EPMD,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Leaves,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Lydon,
Parry Music,
One Last Wish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Modern Lovers,
The Five Americans,
Patti Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Monks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slick Rick,
Erasure,
The Standells,
Y Pants,
Oblivians,
The Dead C,
Kenny Larkin,
Section 25,
DJ Sneak,
B.T. Express,
Boz Scaggs,
The Wake,
Barrington Levy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
the Germs,
Barbara Tucker,
Sam Rivers,
The United States of America,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
Marcia Griffiths,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.