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 Belize and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Yaz to the funk 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Skaos,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang On A Can,
The Five Americans,
Jerry's Kids,
Visage,
Yaz,
Black Pus,
Babytalk,
Eurythmics,
The Dead C,
Funky Four + One,
Ronan,
John Coltrane,
Nico,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smiths,
Stereo Dub,
Schoolly D,
Cymande,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Quantec,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
Nils Olav,
Technova,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric Dolphy,
China Crisis,
Theoretical Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Little Man,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
OOIOO,
Lalann,
Infiniti,
Sound Behaviour,
The Count Five,
Von Mondo,
The Fire Engines,
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Sun Ra,
The Pretty Things,
The Cramps,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
Black Moon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.