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 Honduras and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Livin' Joy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Symarip,
The Fall,
Khruangbin,
Shuggie Otis,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
Guru Guru,
Isaac Hayes,
Brothers Johnson,
The Buckinghams,
The Knickerbockers,
Thompson Twins,
The Litter,
Chris & Cosey,
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola,
Davy DMX,
Donny Hathaway,
Brand Nubian,
Icehouse,
Radio Birdman,
FM Einheit,
kango's stein massive,
MDC,
New Order,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Wells,
The Move,
Todd Terry,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
U.S. Maple,
The Walker Brothers,
Niagra,
Aaron Thompson,
Sam Rivers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flash Fearless,
Scrapy,
Stetsasonic,
Sixth Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
Youth Brigade,
Sister Nancy,
Roy Ayers,
Wally Richardson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
La Düsseldorf,
Scratch Acid,
R.M.O.,
Eddi Front,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dead Boys,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.