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 Cape Verde and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron 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 The Blues Magoos to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Jacques Brel,
Bluetip,
Cal Tjader,
Nico,
Arab on Radar,
Eurythmics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dennis Brown,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lindisfarne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Popol Vuh,
Althea and Donna,
Moss Icon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grey Daturas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smoke,
Cluster,
Severed Heads,
Henry Cow,
Jerry's Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hardrive,
Basic Channel,
Ice-T,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy Collins,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash,
R.M.O.,
Skriet,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hoover,
Unrelated Segments,
The Toasters,
Robert Wyatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faust,
Aural Exciters,
Danielle Patucci,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
Bang On A Can,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Panda Bear,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.