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 Namibia and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the rap 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tom Boy,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül II,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cramps,
June Days,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
Scrapy,
Dawn Penn,
Thee Headcoats,
The Martian,
kango's stein massive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Gong,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Altered Images,
Panda Bear,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Cluster,
David Axelrod,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sparks,
Mission of Burma,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
Alphaville,
Mark Hollis,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television Personalities,
Roxette,
The Victims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Urselle,
The Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Soft Machine,
Grauzone,
Vainqueur,
Don Cherry,
Blancmange,
Gang Green,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marvin Gaye,
L. Decosne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Josef K,
Eurythmics,
The Red Krayola,
the Association,
Lindisfarne,
Cecil Taylor,
Ten City,
Zero Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.