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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grunge 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
Hashim,
Maleditus Sound,
B.T. Express,
The Offenders,
Ultra Naté,
the Bar-Kays,
DJ Sneak,
The Music Machine,
Echospace,
the Swans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minny Pops,
June Days,
Babytalk,
Sound Behaviour,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Althea and Donna,
E-Dancer,
Soulsonic Force,
Brand Nubian,
The Star Department,
John Coltrane,
Icehouse,
DNA,
Zero Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Rod Modell,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dead C,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
Al Stewart,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
Monks,
New Order,
Deadbeat,
The Remains,
Erasure,
Simply Red,
Brick,
ABC,
Lalo Schifrin,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ice-T,
Tubeway Army,
Josef K,
Los Fastidios,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.