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 Albania and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 R.M.O. to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Peter & Gordon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Underground Resistance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ronnie Foster,
Deadbeat,
Morten Harket,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
D'Angelo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marc Almond,
Barrington Levy,
Freddie Wadling,
T. Rex,
The Red Krayola,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
Barclay James Harvest,
Can,
Eric Copeland,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
Mo-Dettes,
Henry Cow,
X-102,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
ABC,
Mad Mike,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Dolphy,
Sällskapet,
Black Moon,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Wells,
Rekid,
Janne Schatter,
The Kinks,
The Mojo Men,
Harry Pussy,
Sister Nancy,
The Techniques,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ludus,
Neu!,
Warsaw,
Camouflage,
Slave,
Aswad,
June of 44,
Absolute Body Control,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.