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 Greece and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Funkadelic to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Prince Buster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Second Layer,
Nils Olav,
Easy Going,
John Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacob Miller,
Q and Not U,
Donald Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kayak,
Massinfluence,
The Gladiators,
The Monks,
The Busters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Leonard Cohen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Basic Channel,
Black Sheep,
Outsiders,
Grey Daturas,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Althea and Donna,
Q65,
Suburban Knight,
Whodini,
Tubeway Army,
The Sound,
Japan,
Eddi Front,
a-ha,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eve St. Jones,
Lightning Bolt,
Tomorrow,
Andrew Hill,
Livin' Joy,
Fad Gadget,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Victims,
Sugar Minott,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.