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 Spain and from Woodstock.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Mr. Review to the rap 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Pop Group,
Television,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bad Manners,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Fear,
Yellowson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed,
a-ha,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fad Gadget,
The Moleskins,
Yusef Lateef,
Sam Rivers,
Interpol,
Sixth Finger,
The Blackbyrds,
Erykah Badu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Das Ding,
Delta 5,
The Beau Brummels,
Newcleus,
Prince Buster,
New Order,
The Litter,
Gong,
Malaria!,
Isaac Hayes,
The Toasters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neu!,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
The Happenings,
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ossler,
Robert Wyatt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Tremeloes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aaron Thompson,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Green,
Andrew Hill,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Underground Resistance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.