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 Guinea-Bissau and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
The Gun Club,
Thee Headcoats,
Donny Hathaway,
Funky Four + One,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neu!,
Visage,
Mars,
The Toasters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Morten Harket,
Flipper,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
48th St. Collective,
Echospace,
The Gap Band,
the Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Ossler,
Harry Pussy,
Television Personalities,
DJ Style,
Yusef Lateef,
The Offenders,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dead Boys,
Reagan Youth,
the Germs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
Spoonie Gee,
Donald Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
Swell Maps,
Sam Rivers,
Matthew Bourne,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
Eric Dolphy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eurythmics,
The Last Poets,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liliput,
The Black Dice,
Kas Product,
Graham Central Station,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.