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 Ivory Coast and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Moss Icon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sex Pistols,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultra Naté,
John Foxx,
MDC,
Hasil Adkins,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
The Real Kids,
Wally Richardson,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
Con Funk Shun,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ornette Coleman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eurythmics,
Cymande,
X-101,
the Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
June of 44,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New Age Steppers,
Circle Jerks,
Roxette,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magazine,
These Immortal Souls,
The Residents,
Matthew Bourne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T. Rex,
Pole,
Fad Gadget,
Moby Grape,
Dennis Brown,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
James White and The Blacks,
Scratch Acid,
The Tremeloes,
FM Einheit,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ludus,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Morten Harket,
the Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.