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 South Africa and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Slick Rick to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Rufus Thomas,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
Reuben Wilson,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Blues Magoos,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
The Velvet Underground,
The Black Dice,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brothers Johnson,
X-Ray Spex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Malaria!,
The Wake,
Technova,
Radiohead,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Yusef Lateef,
The Red Krayola,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sound Behaviour,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Charles Mingus,
Cal Tjader,
The Slackers,
Laurel Aitken,
Fad Gadget,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers,
B.T. Express,
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
Grauzone,
Groovy Waters,
Camouflage,
Parry Music,
The Pop Group,
Crime,
Pole,
The Evens,
Mad Mike,
Camberwell Now,
Gang of Four,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Godley & Creme,
Barclay James Harvest,
Darondo,
Zero Boys,
Mark Hollis,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.