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 Guinea-Bissau and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Moon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Skatalites,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Star Department,
Althea and Donna,
Juan Atkins,
Man Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erasure,
D'Angelo,
ABBA,
The Neon Judgement,
Siglo XX,
Wasted Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boredoms,
Japan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Wyatt,
L. Decosne,
Agitation Free,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
The New Christs,
Joey Negro,
Minny Pops,
Vladislav Delay,
Hardrive,
Ponytail,
Prince Buster,
Liliput,
Scratch Acid,
The Misunderstood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Das Ding,
Nick Fraelich,
Maleditus Sound,
Yaz,
Cybotron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Near,
The Busters,
Brothers Johnson,
Skarface,
Television,
UT,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Adolescents,
Delon & Dalcan,
Massinfluence,
Vainqueur,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gabor Szabo,
The Velvet Underground,
the Slits,
Dark Day,
Susan Cadogan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.