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 Zambia and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare to the jazz 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
Sunsets and Hearts,
F. McDonald,
Ultra Naté,
Moby Grape,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Görl,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Banda Bassotti,
Warsaw,
Radio Birdman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James White and The Blacks,
Soulsonic Force,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Todd Rundgren,
X-101,
K-Klass,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
B.T. Express,
Zero Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Grauzone,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Enemy,
Funkadelic,
Black Moon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Machine,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
Alice Coltrane,
Tommy Roe,
Royal Trux,
Stockholm Monsters,
Negative Approach,
The Raincoats,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Sherman,
Godley & Creme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Freddie Wadling,
Mantronix,
Soft Cell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.