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 Croatia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes 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 Monks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Black Moon,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy Collins,
Fela Kuti,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fall,
Angry Samoans,
The Standells,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fatback Band,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
Black Sheep,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jawbox,
The Sound,
Dark Day,
Grauzone,
The Gladiators,
The Golliwogs,
48th St. Collective,
Scott Walker,
Kerri Chandler,
Visage,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arab on Radar,
Brothers Johnson,
The New Christs,
D'Angelo,
Anthony Braxton,
Faust,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
Guru Guru,
Nick Fraelich,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
Sight & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lower 48,
The Searchers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fugs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
PIL,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalann,
Qualms,
Shoche,
The Move,
James White and The Blacks,
Blancmange,
Rosa Yemen,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.