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 Kiribati and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Andrew Hill to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Accadde A,
The Durutti Column,
Ronnie Foster,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
Audionom,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
Althea and Donna,
Quantec,
the Slits,
Joy Division,
Monolake,
Cheater Slicks,
Average White Band,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dave Clark Five,
Silicon Teens,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
The Techniques,
Liliput,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boredoms,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Porter Ricks,
The Beau Brummels,
Mantronix,
Anthony Braxton,
Dark Day,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fortunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Saints,
T.S.O.L.,
Isaac Hayes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lee Hazlewood,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gichy Dan,
The Toasters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tres Demented,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pussy Galore,
Archie Shepp,
kango's stein massive,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.