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 Bahrain and from Portland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 Connie Case to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Gladiators,
Ossler,
Fear,
Babytalk,
Talk Talk,
Buzzcocks,
Duran Duran,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Machine,
Moebius,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ituana,
Youth Brigade,
In Retrospect,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delta 5,
Graham Central Station,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jawbox,
48th St. Collective,
Rekid,
Roger Hodgson,
Qualms,
Kurtis Blow,
June of 44,
EPMD,
Sun Ra,
Kerri Chandler,
cv313,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Second Layer,
Moby Grape,
Alison Limerick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
The Seeds,
The Remains,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Unwound,
The Grass Roots,
Surgeon,
World's Most,
Bobby Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott Heron,
Japan,
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.