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 Barbados and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lalo Schifrin to the jazz 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Porter Ricks,
Chris & Cosey,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Excepter,
Sex Pistols,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Brass Construction,
Chrome,
KRS-One,
Von Mondo,
MDC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alison Limerick,
Peter & Gordon,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Music Machine,
The Fortunes,
Hardrive,
the Swans,
U.S. Maple,
Todd Rundgren,
UT,
The Vogues,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gun Club,
Quantec,
Howard Jones,
China Crisis,
Alton Ellis,
Lyres,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ituana,
Aloha Tigers,
Crime,
Wire,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick Morgan,
Unrelated Segments,
Magma,
The Leaves,
Robert Hood,
Janne Schatter,
Minutemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ossler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Franke,
The Gap Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
The Pretty Things,
Flipper,
Stiv Bators,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.