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 Benin and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
Heaven 17,
Scrapy,
X-101,
R.M.O.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
Rosa Yemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
DNA,
Scratch Acid,
World's Most,
Eric Copeland,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
Goldenarms,
The Doors,
Masters at Work,
Warsaw,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Stiv Bators,
Slick Rick,
Outsiders,
Half Japanese,
Ohio Players,
Danielle Patucci,
The United States of America,
Liliput,
The Evens,
The Black Dice,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Massinfluence,
The Pretty Things,
Piero Umiliani,
Archie Shepp,
Intrusion,
New Age Steppers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moby Grape,
Ultra Naté,
Mark Hollis,
Y Pants,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sister Nancy,
B.T. Express,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aswad,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.