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 Andorra and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Frankie Knuckles to the funk 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
the Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Grauzone,
Skaos,
Hot Snakes,
Grey Daturas,
T. Rex,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
The Birthday Party,
a-ha,
Camberwell Now,
Sällskapet,
Outsiders,
The Star Department,
Quantec,
Royal Trux,
Quando Quango,
Goldenarms,
Procol Harum,
Skarface,
Los Fastidios,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Selecter,
PIL,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
The Electric Prunes,
Smog,
Vladislav Delay,
Isaac Hayes,
the Swans,
Pulsallama,
Sandy B,
The Sonics,
DJ Sneak,
Panda Bear,
Minnie Riperton,
Flipper,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nick Fraelich,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tubeway Army,
Slave,
Dorothy Ashby,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Machine,
Morten Harket,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.