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 Portugal and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the electroclash 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz 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?
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
Amazonics,
Jacques Brel,
Grandmaster Flash,
Second Layer,
The Mojo Men,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bootsy Collins,
Swell Maps,
Wire,
Kayak,
Prince Buster,
Slick Rick,
The Kinks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Anakelly,
Lakeside,
Ossler,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
These Immortal Souls,
Charles Mingus,
Dark Day,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Parrish,
Tom Boy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fortunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Radio Birdman,
Jawbox,
Radiohead,
PIL,
Maleditus Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Albert Ayler,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heaven 17,
Lucky Dragons,
Althea and Donna,
La Düsseldorf,
Yaz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
Metal Thangz,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Hill,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.