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 Venezuela and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the dance 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glambeats Corp.,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Names,
Joe Smooth,
Lower 48,
Cal Tjader,
The Toasters,
Johnny Clarke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Faust,
Cybotron,
Eddi Front,
The Cure,
Lightning Bolt,
Japan,
David Bowie,
Q and Not U,
the Association,
Rapeman,
The Music Machine,
Simply Red,
Outsiders,
Vladislav Delay,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Panda Bear,
Barbara Tucker,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare,
FM Einheit,
Jacques Brel,
Brick,
Technova,
Flipper,
Deakin,
Donny Hathaway,
Ten City,
The Searchers,
R.M.O.,
Fad Gadget,
The Misunderstood,
AZ,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-101,
Lungfish,
Barrington Levy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bob Dylan,
Drexciya,
Aural Exciters,
Bill Wells,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra,
Isaac Hayes,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.