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 Cambodia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the dance 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
Kayak,
Khruangbin,
La Düsseldorf,
The Busters,
The Slackers,
Mo-Dettes,
Reagan Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Sun Ra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
D'Angelo,
Jawbox,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
JFA,
Stereo Dub,
Jacques Brel,
Eli Mardock,
Rekid,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moody Blues,
Negative Approach,
The Gladiators,
the Human League,
Amazonics,
Outsiders,
Bush Tetras,
Sex Pistols,
the Bar-Kays,
Jerry's Kids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Lynne,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
Roxy Music,
Scientists,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Rufus Thomas,
Dave Gahan,
Magma,
Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Michelle Simonal,
Warren Ellis,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sight & Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.