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 Taiwan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lalo Schifrin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Aaron Thompson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric B and Rakim,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
Ponytail,
Soft Machine,
Darondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Wyatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cecil Taylor,
the Normal,
Marvin Gaye,
The Real Kids,
Gong,
Pantytec,
Stereo Dub,
The Last Poets,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boredoms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brand Nubian,
Mantronix,
Gastr Del Sol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kas Product,
Stiv Bators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swell Maps,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erykah Badu,
Procol Harum,
the Swans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wasted Youth,
Second Layer,
Black Sheep,
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Can,
Funky Four + One,
Alice Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
Ken Boothe,
Donny Hathaway,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
Altered Images,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Tremeloes,
The Saints,
Joensuu 1685,
Todd Terry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Howard Jones,
Arcadia,
Ituana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
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.