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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Pere Ubu to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stetsasonic,
Mad Mike,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Maleditus Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
a-ha,
Sight & Sound,
The Searchers,
Moebius,
Zapp,
David McCallum,
Bush Tetras,
Blake Baxter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
CMW,
Nico,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smoke,
Black Bananas,
Danielle Patucci,
Panda Bear,
Grey Daturas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rapeman,
Deadbeat,
Jerry's Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun City Girls,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
R.M.O.,
Todd Rundgren,
the Sonics,
Marc Almond,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monks,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
L. Decosne,
Shuggie Otis,
Cybotron,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
The Five Americans,
Desert Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Television Personalities,
The Vogues,
Sarah Menescal,
X-102,
The Black Dice,
Graham Central Station,
Camberwell Now,
The Moleskins,
Byron Stingily,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.