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 Mauritania and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Byron Stingily to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Fall,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Davy DMX,
Black Pus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
La Düsseldorf,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Wyatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Pantytec,
Urselle,
Trumans Water,
The Martian,
Royal Trux,
K-Klass,
Althea and Donna,
The Modern Lovers,
The Gap Band,
Fugazi,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Excepter,
Mars,
R.M.O.,
Aloha Tigers,
Fad Gadget,
The Kinks,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mandrill,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Patti Smith,
David McCallum,
The Gories,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Bar-Kays,
Lalo Schifrin,
a-ha,
Colin Newman,
Popol Vuh,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sound,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Saints,
Mr. Review,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roger Hodgson,
Don Cherry,
Soft Cell,
The Happenings,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.