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 Botswana and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 The Moody Blues to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Infiniti,
Ronnie Foster,
Half Japanese,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lakeside,
Minor Threat,
Soft Machine,
X-101,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gun Club,
Matthew Bourne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Todd Terry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Leonard Cohen,
Scott Walker,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Dark Day,
Essential Logic,
Blake Baxter,
Trumans Water,
Zero Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Accadde A,
Johnny Clarke,
Royal Trux,
Dawn Penn,
Wings,
The Monochrome Set,
Basic Channel,
John Lydon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Starr,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gichy Dan,
Stereo Dub,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
T. Rex,
Scrapy,
Adolescents,
Juan Atkins,
Tres Demented,
Maleditus Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sarah Menescal,
Clear Light,
Roxette,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.