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 Indonesia and from New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gladiators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Faust,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
Pierre Henry,
Hashim,
The Names,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pulsallama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Germs,
Steve Hackett,
Pylon,
Crooked Eye,
The Motions,
Barrington Levy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Detroit Cobras,
Danielle Patucci,
Sound Behaviour,
Eddi Front,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Style,
The Skatalites,
Bootsy Collins,
The Last Poets,
The Invisible,
Sonic Youth,
The Five Americans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Gang Starr,
Rod Modell,
Marvin Gaye,
Anakelly,
Symarip,
Sällskapet,
Soft Machine,
Surgeon,
The Monks,
Toni Rubio,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Amon Düül II,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mark Hollis,
Skaos,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
FM Einheit,
K-Klass,
Quantec,
Blancmange,
Adolescents,
Public Enemy,
Index,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.