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 Nepal and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Suburban Knight to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Royal Trux,
The Doors,
Darondo,
Boredoms,
Maurizio,
Pole,
The Index,
Chrome,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rites of Spring,
Inner City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalann,
The Cure,
Roxy Music,
Delta 5,
Ituana,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ludus,
Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moody Blues,
Gang of Four,
Soul II Soul,
Babytalk,
Whodini,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Birthday Party,
Charles Mingus,
Jacob Miller,
Fatback Band,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eli Mardock,
The Star Department,
Au Pairs,
Minutemen,
The Toasters,
Aswad,
Sex Pistols,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
These Immortal Souls,
The Leaves,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dead C,
Joyce Sims,
Essential Logic,
The Searchers,
Average White Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Television Personalities,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.