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 Ghana and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Blackbyrds,
Y Pants,
Dennis Brown,
Brand Nubian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Tremeloes,
Oneida,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Hood,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Evens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gun Club,
Toni Rubio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soft Machine,
Rekid,
Bill Near,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Starr,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultra Naté,
Sexual Harrassment,
CMW,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
Mission of Burma,
Arab on Radar,
The Barracudas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
Kayak,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
June Days,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
China Crisis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Quadrant,
The Mummies,
Cluster,
K-Klass,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.