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 Bangladesh and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer 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 Organ to the rock 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow 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?
Easy Going,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Duran Duran,
Kevin Saunderson,
Khruangbin,
Ituana,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Make Up,
Pagans,
The Gap Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dark Day,
Slick Rick,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
Rakim,
Fear,
Shoche,
Country Teasers,
The Pretty Things,
Lalann,
Stetsasonic,
Wings,
Youth Brigade,
Symarip,
Gichy Dan,
Pylon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
June of 44,
Darondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Malaria!,
Hot Snakes,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
David McCallum,
the Germs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
Marine Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slits,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mr. Review,
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
Accadde A,
Eric Copeland,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blackbyrds,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.