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 South Sudan and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 the Bar-Kays to the crunk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Mad Mike,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lucky Dragons,
Section 25,
Bobby Womack,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
John Coltrane,
Judy Mowatt,
The Walker Brothers,
The Human League,
The Standells,
Subhumans,
U.S. Maple,
Lungfish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
Mantronix,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo,
Interpol,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Buckinghams,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
Fear,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Whodini,
Maurizio,
Model 500,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
Trumans Water,
T. Rex,
Blancmange,
Roxette,
Magazine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Groovy Waters,
Cameo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Urselle,
Tom Boy,
La Düsseldorf,
Barry Ungar,
The Tremeloes,
Oneida,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry's Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
Jacob Miller,
Connie Case,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.