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 Armenia and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 B.T. Express to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
U.S. Maple,
Jawbox,
The Barracudas,
Magma,
Ossler,
Flipper,
Hardrive,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sister Nancy,
Michelle Simonal,
Inner City,
Kool Moe Dee,
Neu!,
DJ Style,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flash Fearless,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
The Beau Brummels,
Chrome,
The Fortunes,
Pagans,
Boz Scaggs,
Donald Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Smog,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tommy Roe,
David Axelrod,
Fad Gadget,
Chris Corsano,
Eric Copeland,
Junior Murvin,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Hood,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Massinfluence,
the Bar-Kays,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Clear Light,
Das Ding,
Sugar Minott,
The Cure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Suburban Knight,
The Mojo Men,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Henry Cow,
Scientists,
Archie Shepp,
Kas Product,
The Durutti Column,
Pylon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.