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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Donald Fagen 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Reuben Wilson,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
Cybotron,
Yazoo,
Pere Ubu,
Skarface,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spoonie Gee,
Deepchord,
Donny Hathaway,
Derrick May,
The Pop Group,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visage,
Amon Düül,
The Grass Roots,
Juan Atkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rakim,
The Slits,
EPMD,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rekid,
OOIOO,
Todd Terry,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Cell,
Scrapy,
Technova,
Negative Approach,
Idris Muhammad,
Fad Gadget,
Ultravox,
Dual Sessions,
Pagans,
Section 25,
Little Man,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brand Nubian,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
Agitation Free,
Sex Pistols,
Theoretical Girls,
China Crisis,
DJ Style,
Loose Ends,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Moby Grape,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The United States of America,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.