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 Monaco and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Althea and Donna to the punk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Simply Red,
MC5,
The Wake,
Hashim,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Tremeloes,
Steve Hackett,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Near,
Susan Cadogan,
Max Romeo,
Carl Craig,
New Order,
Parry Music,
Eric Dolphy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Depeche Mode,
EPMD,
Sarah Menescal,
Mo-Dettes,
Eurythmics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Buzzcocks,
the Swans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Easy Going,
The Last Poets,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maleditus Sound,
Skaos,
Arcadia,
John Coltrane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oblivians,
Fatback Band,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aural Exciters,
Excepter,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
Rapeman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Idris Muhammad,
Joensuu 1685,
Kurtis Blow,
Blake Baxter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.