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 Kazakhstan 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Accadde A to the funk 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Malaria!,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sound Behaviour,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare,
The Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Stiv Bators,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
The Names,
T. Rex,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
Hardrive,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
The Velvet Underground,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Real Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Matthew Bourne,
Junior Murvin,
Wings,
Los Fastidios,
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aaron Thompson,
Don Cherry,
Bill Near,
Organ,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yaz,
Lungfish,
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Icehouse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sonic Youth,
Soul II Soul,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Curtis Mayfield,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Clarke,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter & Gordon,
Smog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neu!,
Electric Prunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.