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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Organ to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Moss Icon,
Hoover,
The Young Rascals,
Black Moon,
the Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
Stiv Bators,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tres Demented,
Donny Hathaway,
Maurizio,
The Cramps,
Absolute Body Control,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Talk Talk,
The Selecter,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Techniques,
X-101,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
the Sonics,
Al Stewart,
Grauzone,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Public Enemy,
Ten City,
Ohio Players,
Angry Samoans,
The Birthday Party,
Rosa Yemen,
the Bar-Kays,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Magma,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Leaves,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Music Machine,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Shuggie Otis,
DJ Sneak,
The Red Krayola,
Soul Sonic Force,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joe Smooth,
Qualms,
The Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
Babytalk,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.