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 Palau and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pylon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Eric Dolphy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brothers Johnson,
The Invisible,
The Mummies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Last Poets,
Danielle Patucci,
Underground Resistance,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Qualms,
AZ,
Jeff Lynne,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Motions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Howard Jones,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Popol Vuh,
This Heat,
The Trojans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronan,
Matthew Halsall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Holt,
Boredoms,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
Pulsallama,
Pantytec,
Supertramp,
Joe Smooth,
The Durutti Column,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ice-T,
E-Dancer,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alison Limerick,
Trumans Water,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Darondo,
Yusef Lateef,
Bronski Beat,
The Doors,
the Fania All-Stars,
DNA,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dirtbombs,
Television,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.