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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Graham Central Station 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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terry Callier,
Boz Scaggs,
Camouflage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New York Dolls,
The Buckinghams,
Bluetip,
Soulsonic Force,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
Pantytec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Martian,
The Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jawbox,
Hashim,
The United States of America,
Dawn Penn,
the Sonics,
Wire,
The Angels of Light,
Don Cherry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Inner City,
David Axelrod,
Infiniti,
Alison Limerick,
Parry Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Drexciya,
Idris Muhammad,
Minny Pops,
Mars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Victims,
Dark Day,
China Crisis,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arthur Verocai,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alphaville,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Grauzone,
Agitation Free,
The Smoke,
Jacob Miller,
Robert Görl,
Ronan,
Goldenarms,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.