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 Belarus and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage 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 Susan Cadogan to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Sun City Girls,
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
The Zeros,
Half Japanese,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harry Pussy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Au Pairs,
Jawbox,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Toasters,
Black Moon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Franke,
Bang On A Can,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Black Sheep,
Panda Bear,
Fad Gadget,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Byrd,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Almond,
This Heat,
Monks,
Heaven 17,
Deadbeat,
Mark Hollis,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
Hoover,
Excepter,
The Evens,
X-101,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
The Grass Roots,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Godley & Creme,
Ronan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terry Callier,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visage,
Negative Approach,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.