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 Nigeria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron 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 The American Breed to the disco 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Clear Light,
The Offenders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Robert Görl,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
Sister Nancy,
Peter & Gordon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Agent Orange,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Christie,
Livin' Joy,
Letta Mbulu,
Bob Dylan,
Mark Hollis,
Outsiders,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Freddie Wadling,
Danielle Patucci,
Darondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Delta 5,
Bluetip,
Donny Hathaway,
Sällskapet,
Panda Bear,
the Human League,
The Red Krayola,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Supertramp,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Motions,
Newcleus,
Tears for Fears,
Dead Boys,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
Radiohead,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.