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 Guyana and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Urselle to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cybotron,
Delta 5,
Ossler,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agitation Free,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
Andrew Hill,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Colin Newman,
June of 44,
Pierre Henry,
The Offenders,
The Standells,
Mo-Dettes,
D'Angelo,
Sex Pistols,
the Human League,
R.M.O.,
Japan,
Stiv Bators,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Misunderstood,
Whodini,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lakeside,
Joe Smooth,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Ohio Players,
Donny Hathaway,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Angry Samoans,
Eve St. Jones,
Dead Boys,
Kas Product,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cecil Taylor,
Shoche,
The New Christs,
Howard Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Junior Murvin,
Banda Bassotti,
Surgeon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.