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 Cape Verde and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Motorama to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
Minutemen,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Standells,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Animal Collective,
Lalann,
Shuggie Otis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June of 44,
Sight & Sound,
Delta 5,
Peter and Kerry,
Sarah Menescal,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
Ponytail,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thee Headcoats,
Agitation Free,
The Barracudas,
Metal Thangz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fad Gadget,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Cybotron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roger Hodgson,
Fela Kuti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Henry Cow,
Second Layer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cure,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Jandek,
Spoonie Gee,
Altered Images,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amon Düül,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Terry Callier,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.