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 Cape Verde and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 June of 44 to the rap 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wings,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
D'Angelo,
Eric Copeland,
Skriet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television Personalities,
Alice Coltrane,
Lightning Bolt,
U.S. Maple,
The Moleskins,
Nils Olav,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Grass Roots,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Model 500,
Soul Sonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül,
Mission of Burma,
Ultravox,
the Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
Angry Samoans,
Wire,
Stetsasonic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
the Human League,
One Last Wish,
Make Up,
Quadrant,
Don Cherry,
Yaz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Porter Ricks,
Yellowson,
Black Flag,
Patti Smith,
Q and Not U,
New Order,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Crooked Eye,
Jacques Brel,
Aswad,
Crispy Ambulance,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.