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 France and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Khruangbin to the techno 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
David McCallum,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cameo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Funkadelic,
Robert Hood,
The Invisible,
Derrick Morgan,
Morten Harket,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Divine Comedy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dave Clark Five,
Babytalk,
Mantronix,
Dave Gahan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Clear Light,
The Smiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Delta 5,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pop Group,
Massinfluence,
The Fortunes,
Charles Mingus,
John Lydon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Junior Murvin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Popol Vuh,
Moby Grape,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Dennis Brown,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oblivians,
Accadde A,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Bourne,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
The Buckinghams,
Average White Band,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Pussy Galore,
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.