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 Switzerland and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 The Black Dice to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
Metal Thangz,
The Human League,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Certain Ratio,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow,
Morten Harket,
The Last Poets,
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Coltrane,
Radiohead,
Eve St. Jones,
EPMD,
Underground Resistance,
Rotary Connection,
Grey Daturas,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Görl,
Minutemen,
Crime,
Gang Green,
The Music Machine,
T. Rex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
The Tremeloes,
Heaven 17,
The Golliwogs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Toni Rubio,
Absolute Body Control,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Urselle,
Siglo XX,
Liliput,
Oneida,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Hood,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Rod Modell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spandau Ballet,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.