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 Paraguay and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 U.S. Maple to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Ponytail,
Ultravox,
John Cale,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tubeway Army,
Albert Ayler,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Searchers,
Amazonics,
Newcleus,
Cymande,
AZ,
Motorama,
D'Angelo,
The Golliwogs,
Essential Logic,
Mars,
Amon Düül II,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delta 5,
The Dead C,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
Howard Jones,
Cluster,
The Velvet Underground,
The Stooges,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Skatalites,
Lungfish,
Scan 7,
The Fugs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Boz Scaggs,
Toni Rubio,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cramps,
FM Einheit,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gap Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Teasers,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick May,
Youth Brigade,
New Age Steppers,
Sarah Menescal,
Sam Rivers,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.