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 Botswana and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Andrew Hill to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Y Pants,
The Barracudas,
Ultravox,
Nico,
DJ Style,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
Hasil Adkins,
Echospace,
Make Up,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Niagra,
The Real Kids,
Gong,
John Coltrane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sex Pistols,
Cybotron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Symarip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Laurel Aitken,
Mr. Review,
Duran Duran,
David McCallum,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slackers,
Toni Rubio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
K-Klass,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
The Blackbyrds,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Scan 7,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
Quadrant,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Piero Umiliani,
Lakeside,
Outsiders,
Black Bananas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joey Negro,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.