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 Brunei and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Lower 48 to the disco 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Drexciya,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dual Sessions,
China Crisis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minor Threat,
Prince Buster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Busters,
Joe Finger,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang On A Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cybotron,
Heaven 17,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Five Americans,
Sixth Finger,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Görl,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Unwound,
Flipper,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter & Gordon,
Isaac Hayes,
Deepchord,
Jeff Mills,
Unrelated Segments,
Hot Snakes,
John Lydon,
Popol Vuh,
Kurtis Blow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
Lou Christie,
the Swans,
Bad Manners,
Inner City,
Pierre Henry,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fortunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Modern Lovers,
Joe Smooth,
Young Marble Giants,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.