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 Swaziland and from Stockholm.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sister Nancy to the techno 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Fear,
The Human League,
Man Eating Sloth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mantronix,
Kayak,
Moby Grape,
The Zeros,
Ken Boothe,
Warren Ellis,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
Nick Fraelich,
Oblivians,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Babytalk,
Swans,
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
The Victims,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
Motorama,
Aloha Tigers,
The Kinks,
Derrick May,
Connie Case,
Bad Manners,
Ice-T,
Cal Tjader,
Nirvana,
Dual Sessions,
Country Teasers,
The Black Dice,
The Cramps,
Brick,
Bill Wells,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Thee Headcoats,
Procol Harum,
Subhumans,
Eurythmics,
Pulsallama,
Gichy Dan,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fortunes,
Black Moon,
Average White Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Ossler,
Arcadia,
The Moody Blues,
The Walker Brothers,
Basic Channel,
Khruangbin,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.