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 Montenegro and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roxy Music to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Chrome,
Juan Atkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monochrome Set,
Con Funk Shun,
Sound Behaviour,
Ice-T,
The Gun Club,
La Düsseldorf,
Swell Maps,
Cameo,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
Deepchord,
Lalo Schifrin,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Near,
Sun City Girls,
a-ha,
Amon Düül,
AZ,
Technova,
Al Stewart,
Suburban Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alphaville,
Tomorrow,
Morten Harket,
Porter Ricks,
Peter and Kerry,
Michelle Simonal,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rod Modell,
Scientists,
The Knickerbockers,
The Toasters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brand Nubian,
Mad Mike,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Khruangbin,
The Selecter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Wells,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sixth Finger,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heaven 17,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
Arab on Radar,
Archie Shepp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Susan Cadogan,
Sarah Menescal,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.