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 Jamaica and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Inner City to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angry Samoans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Susan Cadogan,
Altered Images,
Sister Nancy,
Vladislav Delay,
Funkadelic,
Unwound,
Ohio Players,
T.S.O.L.,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Sparks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Steve Hackett,
Maleditus Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dead C,
Nick Fraelich,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Excepter,
Ultra Naté,
Magma,
Ornette Coleman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Underground Resistance,
Cluster,
Model 500,
Isaac Hayes,
Oblivians,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Trumans Water,
Frankie Knuckles,
MC5,
Buzzcocks,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Con Funk Shun,
Moebius,
Pharoah Sanders,
Boredoms,
Tears for Fears,
Soul II Soul,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.