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 Jordan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gastr Del Sol to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Warren Ellis,
The Zeros,
Todd Terry,
Dead Boys,
Young Marble Giants,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gladiators,
The Star Department,
The Fortunes,
Mark Hollis,
Blancmange,
Little Man,
Hashim,
Lou Christie,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
The Move,
The Residents,
Janne Schatter,
Can,
The Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Max Romeo,
Liliput,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Reagan Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warsaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
Organ,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
David Bowie,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
the Swans,
Spandau Ballet,
Talk Talk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul II Soul,
Silicon Teens,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rites of Spring,
Scott Walker,
Aswad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suicide,
Gang Gang Dance,
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.