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 Mexico and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Durutti Column to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
The Smiths,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
Second Layer,
The Offenders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
Theoretical Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pantytec,
John Coltrane,
Pole,
Average White Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Normal,
Barry Ungar,
Minor Threat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maleditus Sound,
World's Most,
New Age Steppers,
Accadde A,
New York Dolls,
The Grass Roots,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
Simply Red,
Brick,
Juan Atkins,
Grey Daturas,
Desert Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wings,
Basic Channel,
Fluxion,
Aloha Tigers,
Tears for Fears,
Angry Samoans,
The Fire Engines,
Rotary Connection,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
10cc,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kaleidoscope,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nick Fraelich,
Slave,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ludus,
E-Dancer,
Alton Ellis,
Sällskapet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quantec,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.