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 Finland and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Donald Byrd to the dance 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rites of Spring,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul II Soul,
Isaac Hayes,
Bill Near,
Magazine,
48th St. Collective,
Delta 5,
Glambeats Corp.,
MDC,
X-102,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arab on Radar,
kango's stein massive,
New Order,
Soft Machine,
Masters at Work,
Subhumans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moss Icon,
Hashim,
OOIOO,
Ludus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Icehouse,
Deadbeat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Howard Jones,
Dual Sessions,
Flipper,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dave Gahan,
Sandy B,
Pole,
The Count Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hasil Adkins,
DNA,
Kevin Saunderson,
Goldenarms,
Drexciya,
Sarah Menescal,
Angry Samoans,
L. Decosne,
Peter and Kerry,
Scrapy,
Cybotron,
Reagan Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Excepter,
Camberwell Now,
Black Bananas,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.