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 Mali and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the techno 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Technova,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
Malaria!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thompson Twins,
The Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
X-102,
Pagans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Monolake,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
Model 500,
Rosa Yemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pet Shop Boys,
Khruangbin,
Stiv Bators,
Josef K,
Sparks,
The J.B.'s,
Flash Fearless,
Dennis Brown,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boz Scaggs,
Cameo,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Trojans,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Invisible,
The Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nirvana,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Sound Behaviour,
The Grass Roots,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Age Steppers,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Underground Resistance,
Althea and Donna,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Pretty Things,
The Names,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.