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 Gambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Dark Day to the grunge 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Star Department,
Byron Stingily,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
KRS-One,
Skriet,
Bronski Beat,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
Pagans,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
Neu!,
Don Cherry,
The Slackers,
the Bar-Kays,
the Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drexciya,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Audionom,
Cybotron,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Halsall,
Pylon,
Bobby Womack,
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
Jerry's Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Index,
Boredoms,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Christie,
Eve St. Jones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Accadde A,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fire Engines,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Brand Nubian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pet Shop Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Mr. Review,
Graham Central Station,
Cecil Taylor,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.