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 Kiribati and from London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
the Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
Sarah Menescal,
Duran Duran,
Judy Mowatt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dawn Penn,
The Divine Comedy,
The Offenders,
Skarface,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
10cc,
Lindisfarne,
The Mojo Men,
Tubeway Army,
Maurizio,
Black Pus,
Pagans,
Robert Wyatt,
The Motions,
Camberwell Now,
the Normal,
Henry Cow,
Minny Pops,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Near,
Lower 48,
Peter and Kerry,
Boz Scaggs,
Funky Four + One,
Gastr Del Sol,
OOIOO,
Pere Ubu,
The Saints,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blues Magoos,
Stockholm Monsters,
Anakelly,
Lalann,
Pulsallama,
Nick Fraelich,
Y Pants,
Intrusion,
Nils Olav,
Alton Ellis,
ABC,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Massinfluence,
Kaleidoscope,
Zapp,
Bluetip,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick May,
Guru Guru,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.