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 St Lucia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Almond,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
10cc,
Monks,
Eric Copeland,
Moby Grape,
Soul II Soul,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Saints,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Teasers,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Wings,
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Eli Mardock,
Marmalade,
The Sound,
Tom Boy,
the Germs,
Mr. Review,
Scan 7,
Tommy Roe,
Public Enemy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
E-Dancer,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxy Music,
Archie Shepp,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Spandau Ballet,
Crash Course in Science,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
Bob Dylan,
Fela Kuti,
The Leaves,
The Doors,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
Mad Mike,
Charles Mingus,
Minnie Riperton,
K-Klass,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.