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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Excepter to the funk 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Sight & Sound,
Lakeside,
Excepter,
Sixth Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MDC,
The Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Model 500,
Quando Quango,
Ludus,
Franke,
Ronnie Foster,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Christie,
The Motions,
The Index,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
Flipper,
Bill Near,
Donny Hathaway,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Intrusion,
Delta 5,
Matthew Bourne,
The Wake,
Josef K,
The Fuzztones,
Mars,
La Düsseldorf,
AZ,
The Move,
The Raincoats,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Slave,
Underground Resistance,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kool Moe Dee,
Maleditus Sound,
Sun City Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers,
The Five Americans,
Khruangbin,
The Slits,
Cameo,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.