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 Gambia and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Amon Düül to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marmalade,
World's Most,
The Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
H. Thieme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Buckinghams,
DJ Style,
Hardrive,
Tomorrow,
Yazoo,
Franke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boz Scaggs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Susan Cadogan,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Dead Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Minor Threat,
Roxy Music,
The Moody Blues,
Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Make Up,
Minnie Riperton,
Gichy Dan,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
The Tremeloes,
The Gun Club,
The Fugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scientists,
Metal Thangz,
Thompson Twins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
The Slits,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arab on Radar,
Derrick May,
Soul Sonic Force,
Reuben Wilson,
Skarface,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rotary Connection,
Popol Vuh,
Negative Approach,
Y Pants,
X-Ray Spex,
Shuggie Otis,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.