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 Paraguay and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Donald Byrd to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Gang Starr,
Underground Resistance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bronski Beat,
Rosa Yemen,
Kas Product,
The Litter,
Sun Ra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dark Day,
The United States of America,
Subhumans,
Pantaleimon,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mars,
Gabor Szabo,
Minny Pops,
the Human League,
Interpol,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yellowson,
Neil Young,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Pantytec,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Oneida,
Hasil Adkins,
Max Romeo,
K-Klass,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gladiators,
MC5,
The Motions,
Suicide,
Stereo Dub,
The Cure,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
Magma,
kango's stein massive,
Sugar Minott,
Ultravox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Near,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun City Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Agent Orange,
Rod Modell,
Wings,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.