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 Tonga and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Bad Manners to the techno 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
U.S. Maple,
Banda Bassotti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fear,
Jacques Brel,
10cc,
Moebius,
Fluxion,
Roy Ayers,
Dawn Penn,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
Agitation Free,
Arcadia,
Duran Duran,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
Kas Product,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mars,
Lungfish,
Model 500,
Fela Kuti,
Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Popol Vuh,
David Axelrod,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Excepter,
Dennis Brown,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jacob Miller,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
EPMD,
Faraquet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monochrome Set,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
The Selecter,
Black Flag,
Prince Buster,
Carl Craig,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Erasure,
Royal Trux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Malaria!,
Mission of Burma,
Pantaleimon,
Sam Rivers,
Yusef Lateef,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.