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 Yemen and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Parrish,
Schoolly D,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers,
Ossler,
Qualms,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
Japan,
Eric Copeland,
D'Angelo,
Kaleidoscope,
The Raincoats,
James White and The Blacks,
The Tremeloes,
UT,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fluxion,
Tubeway Army,
Yaz,
Yellowson,
the Soft Cell,
Kerrie Biddell,
CMW,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
The Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
a-ha,
The Real Kids,
Darondo,
The Black Dice,
Yazoo,
Maurizio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
Kevin Saunderson,
Don Cherry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Monks,
The Doors,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
The Trojans,
Scion,
Yusef Lateef,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amazonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Buzzcocks,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.