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 Turkmenistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the crunk 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Infiniti,
Royal Trux,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young,
Cluster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Make Up,
Camouflage,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delon & Dalcan,
E-Dancer,
Goldenarms,
Lou Christie,
Outsiders,
The Mummies,
Faraquet,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Joey Negro,
Yazoo,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx,
Eric Copeland,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
Arthur Verocai,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eurythmics,
Parry Music,
Swans,
Bobby Sherman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mad Mike,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Altered Images,
Young Marble Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ponytail,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New York Dolls,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faust,
The Black Dice,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Second Layer,
Fugazi,
Delta 5,
Mr. Review,
Marvin Gaye,
Ornette Coleman,
Sixth Finger,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monochrome Set,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.