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 Colombia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
The Modern Lovers,
F. McDonald,
Ultra Naté,
The Techniques,
Marvin Gaye,
Spandau Ballet,
Cluster,
The Blackbyrds,
Wally Richardson,
The Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
Maleditus Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aaron Thompson,
The Moleskins,
The J.B.'s,
Lalann,
The Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Index,
Essential Logic,
Wolf Eyes,
The Names,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Halsall,
Lucky Dragons,
Soulsonic Force,
Aloha Tigers,
The Move,
Jacques Brel,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Moebius,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Raincoats,
Anakelly,
Bill Wells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Newcleus,
The New Christs,
Oblivians,
Al Stewart,
Tomorrow,
Glenn Branca,
Alison Limerick,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.