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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 snare 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 Oneida to the rock 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fuzztones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
The Remains,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Halsall,
Byron Stingily,
Ohio Players,
Cheater Slicks,
Nils Olav,
Piero Umiliani,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aural Exciters,
Heaven 17,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mad Mike,
Moebius,
Ice-T,
Tubeway Army,
Derrick Morgan,
Mantronix,
Absolute Body Control,
OOIOO,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
Eurythmics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
B.T. Express,
Suburban Knight,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
Infiniti,
New Order,
Dawn Penn,
Oneida,
Vladislav Delay,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The New Christs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Basic Channel,
The Gories,
Smog,
Joe Finger,
Masters at Work,
The Leaves,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yazoo,
Radiohead,
Organ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.