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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Carl Craig,
John Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Radiohead,
Theoretical Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
D'Angelo,
The J.B.'s,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gladiators,
Glenn Branca,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moss Icon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Neil Young,
Hot Snakes,
Duran Duran,
Gerry Rafferty,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minny Pops,
Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Rosa Yemen,
a-ha,
Drexciya,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
Swell Maps,
The Names,
Steve Hackett,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masters at Work,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
Deepchord,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
Easy Going,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
Subhumans,
Infiniti,
Urselle,
Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
The Smoke,
The Busters,
Cluster,
Letta Mbulu,
Supertramp,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.