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 Saudi Arabia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Pierre Henry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wasted Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pulsallama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quantec,
PIL,
Moss Icon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Section 25,
Fluxion,
Mad Mike,
Scott Walker,
Peter and Kerry,
Bush Tetras,
Eve St. Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
The Motions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Juan Atkins,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Suicide,
Howard Jones,
Lightning Bolt,
One Last Wish,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Womack,
Cecil Taylor,
China Crisis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slackers,
Terry Callier,
The Cramps,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gun Club,
Soul Sonic Force,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Pus,
Duran Duran,
Popol Vuh,
Niagra,
Trumans Water,
Tomorrow,
Urselle,
Sound Behaviour,
Metal Thangz,
The Doors,
The Birthday Party,
The Index,
Procol Harum,
Jawbox,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.