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 Kosovo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vladislav Delay to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
T.S.O.L.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marine Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Rundgren,
Kenny Larkin,
DJ Style,
Kayak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Marvin Gaye,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donny Hathaway,
Rapeman,
Reuben Wilson,
Tommy Roe,
Connie Case,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Busters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Duran Duran,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed,
Black Moon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
Carl Craig,
a-ha,
Cheater Slicks,
Brick,
Quantec,
Boredoms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Adolescents,
Angry Samoans,
Half Japanese,
Graham Central Station,
Alton Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
The Leaves,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
The Mummies,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
Ronnie Foster,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.