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 Benin and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Happenings to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Wake,
Slick Rick,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
Letta Mbulu,
the Normal,
The Evens,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Morten Harket,
The Techniques,
Gerry Rafferty,
Trumans Water,
Dennis Brown,
Y Pants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Drexciya,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare,
CMW,
China Crisis,
Kas Product,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Reed,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
The Gladiators,
Slave,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dual Sessions,
Au Pairs,
Laurel Aitken,
Bronski Beat,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs,
Goldenarms,
cv313,
Jeff Lynne,
John Cale,
Godley & Creme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Derrick Morgan,
Liliput,
The Fuzztones,
Alice Coltrane,
Delta 5,
Public Image Ltd.,
Spoonie Gee,
Yellowson,
Black Moon,
Kenny Larkin,
Animal Collective,
Skarface,
Gang of Four,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.