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 Korea South and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Holt to the techno 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Black Bananas,
Minor Threat,
The Fortunes,
Toni Rubio,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Parry Music,
Man Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
X-101,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Grass Roots,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Wolf Eyes,
Cheater Slicks,
Warsaw,
Ultra Naté,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Steve Hackett,
Crash Course in Science,
Anthony Braxton,
Crime,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
the Human League,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Excepter,
Outsiders,
Tommy Roe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Don Cherry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vladislav Delay,
Rites of Spring,
Rosa Yemen,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
Janne Schatter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The American Breed,
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
Sandy B,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.