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 Germany and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the dance 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
Main Source,
Gang Green,
Darondo,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
Franke,
Lou Reed,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monolake,
Mandrill,
Theoretical Girls,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marmalade,
the Sonics,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
John Lydon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flipper,
Quantec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Morten Harket,
Tropical Tobacco,
Guru Guru,
Deakin,
Hasil Adkins,
Cecil Taylor,
John Holt,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Associates,
X-Ray Spex,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
The Buckinghams,
Davy DMX,
Underground Resistance,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Dolphy,
Warsaw,
DJ Style,
Eddi Front,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brick,
Joe Smooth,
Mars,
Pagans,
Anthony Braxton,
The Neon Judgement,
The Smoke,
Marine Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.