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 Marshall Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 DJ Style to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Lucky Dragons,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
Swans,
Cameo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
a-ha,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Sonics,
The Victims,
Cheater Slicks,
Tubeway Army,
Hot Snakes,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Laurel Aitken,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sound,
Khruangbin,
Eve St. Jones,
The Toasters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Wake,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glambeats Corp.,
A Certain Ratio,
Q and Not U,
The Blackbyrds,
Schoolly D,
Scion,
Gabor Szabo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Real Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arab on Radar,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Wyatt,
Hardrive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hasil Adkins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Howard Jones,
Davy DMX,
Inner City,
The Count Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suicide,
Section 25,
Aural Exciters,
Royal Trux,
Trumans Water,
Lalo Schifrin,
La Düsseldorf,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.