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 Slovenia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fat Boys to the disco 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Deakin,
Whodini,
Sugar Minott,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Popol Vuh,
Barrington Levy,
Absolute Body Control,
Deadbeat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Idris Muhammad,
Sonic Youth,
EPMD,
Morten Harket,
Electric Prunes,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Stetsasonic,
Alice Coltrane,
X-Ray Spex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
Cymande,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Buckinghams,
Eric B and Rakim,
a-ha,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cecil Taylor,
Yaz,
Judy Mowatt,
Alison Limerick,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Eric Copeland,
Pole,
Agitation Free,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sight & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Searchers,
The Gap Band,
The Cure,
Joe Finger,
Alphaville,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Associates,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Angels of Light,
Funkadelic,
June Days,
Prince Buster,
The Motions,
Public Enemy,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.