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 Bulgaria and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Crash Course in Science,
the Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
The Blackbyrds,
Basic Channel,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Groovy Waters,
Nas,
The Raincoats,
Swans,
Guru Guru,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
Gang Starr,
Zero Boys,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
The United States of America,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dawn Penn,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
Procol Harum,
Unwound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funky Four + One,
Rites of Spring,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mad Mike,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Urselle,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
Lalo Schifrin,
Symarip,
Judy Mowatt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masters at Work,
The Zeros,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Black Bananas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Victims,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Joe Finger,
The Star Department,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sandy B,
Scan 7,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
China Crisis,
Electric Prunes,
X-101,
Audionom,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.