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 Belize and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Fatback Band to the electroclash 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
KRS-One,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Severed Heads,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Guru Guru,
The Stooges,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Con Funk Shun,
Thee Headcoats,
Reuben Wilson,
The Slackers,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Bananas,
Dual Sessions,
Minny Pops,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacob Miller,
Monolake,
CMW,
Ituana,
Flash Fearless,
The J.B.'s,
Organ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cluster,
The Black Dice,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
D'Angelo,
Japan,
New Age Steppers,
F. McDonald,
The Birthday Party,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aaron Thompson,
Moebius,
Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Bowie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cheater Slicks,
Skaos,
Boredoms,
Banda Bassotti,
Heaven 17,
Vainqueur,
The Trojans,
The Monks,
The Busters,
Mr. Review,
Ten City,
The Martian,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.