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 Iceland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Soft Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Leonard Cohen,
Aswad,
Jandek,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Dolphy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radiohead,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed,
James White and The Blacks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Knickerbockers,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas,
These Immortal Souls,
The Music Machine,
a-ha,
Sam Rivers,
Harry Pussy,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deadbeat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Christie,
Hasil Adkins,
Wolf Eyes,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
Duran Duran,
Pantaleimon,
The Black Dice,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mojo Men,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
New York Dolls,
Cybotron,
Monolake,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Drexciya,
Excepter,
DNA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dave Gahan,
Lungfish,
Ronnie Foster,
Marmalade,
Supertramp,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.