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 Slovakia and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and New York.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
A Certain Ratio,
Mission of Burma,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
Rufus Thomas,
Lucky Dragons,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Germs,
Inner City,
Infiniti,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
Severed Heads,
Yazoo,
Slick Rick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mantronix,
Basic Channel,
Magma,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barrington Levy,
Lakeside,
The Vogues,
Icehouse,
Average White Band,
The Seeds,
Trumans Water,
Jacob Miller,
Ultravox,
Crash Course in Science,
Alton Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
Audionom,
Jandek,
The Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Livin' Joy,
Scan 7,
The Names,
The Blackbyrds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Slits,
the Sonics,
Piero Umiliani,
Lightning Bolt,
Theoretical Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aswad,
Con Funk Shun,
DJ Style,
The Residents,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.