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 Venezuela and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Donny Hathaway to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Susan Cadogan,
Nirvana,
The Knickerbockers,
Nas,
The Red Krayola,
Matthew Halsall,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eric B and Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Busters,
Basic Channel,
The Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
The Kinks,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Bananas,
The Names,
Black Sheep,
Kurtis Blow,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Green,
The Evens,
Ponytail,
Joy Division,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Warsaw,
The Five Americans,
Sugar Minott,
Loose Ends,
Model 500,
Alton Ellis,
The Move,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Lindisfarne,
Chrome,
Minny Pops,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Deepchord,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Supertramp,
Blossom Toes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
Rod Modell,
Howard Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scott Walker,
Carl Craig,
Derrick Morgan,
Ohio Players,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Circle Jerks,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.