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 Uruguay and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marvin Gaye to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Ornette Coleman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kurtis Blow,
Q and Not U,
Johnny Clarke,
Symarip,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tres Demented,
Unrelated Segments,
Jeff Lynne,
Minnie Riperton,
The Martian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Slave,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ludus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marc Almond,
Junior Murvin,
Hardrive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Young Rascals,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faraquet,
EPMD,
Urselle,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Man Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
The Music Machine,
Index,
John Holt,
Jacques Brel,
Fatback Band,
Circle Jerks,
Excepter,
The Durutti Column,
Pierre Henry,
Section 25,
The Slackers,
The Star Department,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kas Product,
Schoolly D,
Theoretical Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sarah Menescal,
Cal Tjader,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.