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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cheater Slicks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Heaven 17,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aural Exciters,
Faraquet,
Erasure,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
FM Einheit,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roxette,
Jawbox,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
Mission of Burma,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Television,
Josef K,
Khruangbin,
The Skatalites,
Albert Ayler,
Dave Gahan,
Bluetip,
Jandek,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Pus,
Warren Ellis,
Aloha Tigers,
Television Personalities,
Severed Heads,
Man Parrish,
David Bowie,
Young Marble Giants,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Black Dice,
Arcadia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronnie Foster,
Minnie Riperton,
The Searchers,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stereo Dub,
EPMD,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare,
Audionom,
Chris Corsano,
New Age Steppers,
The Smoke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Maleditus Sound,
Make Up,
Pole,
Mars,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.