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 Djibouti and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Little Man to the punk 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Surgeon,
Panda Bear,
Fad Gadget,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
The Litter,
Chris & Cosey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
Guru Guru,
Tres Demented,
Agitation Free,
Dual Sessions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mars,
D'Angelo,
Brass Construction,
Tom Boy,
Absolute Body Control,
Althea and Donna,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
Kaleidoscope,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Birthday Party,
Index,
a-ha,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eden Ahbez,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Michelle Simonal,
Ornette Coleman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pantaleimon,
Goldenarms,
Eddi Front,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pulsallama,
This Heat,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Womack,
The Beau Brummels,
Mr. Review,
Donny Hathaway,
Patti Smith,
The Leaves,
R.M.O.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.