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 Brazil and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brand Nubian to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Porter Ricks,
Interpol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Camberwell Now,
Accadde A,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Red Krayola,
Agitation Free,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed,
The Trojans,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barrington Levy,
Marine Girls,
kango's stein massive,
L. Decosne,
The Doors,
K-Klass,
Basic Channel,
The Invisible,
Aural Exciters,
Isaac Hayes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Gang Starr,
Altered Images,
The Music Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
The Motions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bauhaus,
Lou Christie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young,
The Techniques,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lucky Dragons,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Barry Ungar,
Desert Stars,
Agent Orange,
Howard Jones,
Deepchord,
The Happenings,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Brand Nubian,
Warsaw,
Sex Pistols,
Radiohead,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lower 48,
Grey Daturas,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.