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 Burkina and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 FM Einheit to the grunge 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Black Bananas,
Second Layer,
Nico,
Electric Prunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ten City,
Cheater Slicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eli Mardock,
Reagan Youth,
Altered Images,
Circle Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Style,
The United States of America,
Skarface,
Roxy Music,
The Residents,
Byron Stingily,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
The Cure,
The Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alison Limerick,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thee Headcoats,
Carl Craig,
The Leaves,
Suicide,
Soft Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
L. Decosne,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
The Last Poets,
Boredoms,
Funky Four + One,
Drexciya,
Quando Quango,
D'Angelo,
The Remains,
Drive Like Jehu,
Japan,
The American Breed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New York Dolls,
Panda Bear,
Brand Nubian,
The Fuzztones,
Peter and Kerry,
Blancmange,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.