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 Eritrea and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
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 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 Japan to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
The Red Krayola,
Deepchord,
Jeff Mills,
Cheater Slicks,
Ten City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Parry Music,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Style,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fire Engines,
The Velvet Underground,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Massinfluence,
AZ,
Shuggie Otis,
Sex Pistols,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
Slave,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
DJ Sneak,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Motorama,
Byron Stingily,
Hardrive,
Wire,
Arthur Verocai,
The Techniques,
The Motions,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers,
Jacob Miller,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force,
Saccharine Trust,
Todd Rundgren,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hoover,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echospace,
Stereo Dub,
Sixth Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brick,
Shoche,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.