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 Lesotho and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeff Mills to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
D'Angelo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sight & Sound,
The Barracudas,
Harmonia,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
Alison Limerick,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed,
The Smiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Neu!,
Sex Pistols,
Newcleus,
The Standells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
The Vogues,
The Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Starr,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hasil Adkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Busters,
Zapp,
Arthur Verocai,
The Trojans,
The Divine Comedy,
Subhumans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
Shuggie Otis,
T.S.O.L.,
Bronski Beat,
Swell Maps,
Kas Product,
Chris Corsano,
June of 44,
Rosa Yemen,
Marmalade,
Ultra Naté,
Jandek,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fat Boys,
The Monks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Seeds,
Popol Vuh,
the Bar-Kays,
Sound Behaviour,
Oneida,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Accadde A,
The Raincoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blake Baxter,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.