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 Estonia and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 The Durutti Column to the punk 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
KRS-One,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Mills,
E-Dancer,
Echospace,
Black Moon,
Easy Going,
Ultravox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Intrusion,
The Names,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Skarface,
The Count Five,
The Smoke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zero Boys,
Clear Light,
Ralphi Rosario,
Warren Ellis,
Angry Samoans,
Max Romeo,
Rekid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reuben Wilson,
Sixth Finger,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pantaleimon,
In Retrospect,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wolf Eyes,
Sonic Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Cymande,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gories,
Robert Hood,
The Dead C,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Althea and Donna,
ABBA,
Agitation Free,
Little Man,
The American Breed,
Pulsallama,
Sugar Minott,
Lucky Dragons,
Drexciya,
The Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Delon & Dalcan,
Siglo XX,
Scrapy,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.