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 Sri Lanka and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Motions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Judy Mowatt,
The Offenders,
The Litter,
The Cowsills,
Aural Exciters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Duran Duran,
The Seeds,
The Martian,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scan 7,
Ultravox,
F. McDonald,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Human League,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pole,
Colin Newman,
Pantytec,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
Boogie Down Productions,
Con Funk Shun,
Whodini,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
X-102,
Monks,
Lungfish,
Deakin,
Minutemen,
Morten Harket,
Jacques Brel,
Heaven 17,
Idris Muhammad,
Saccharine Trust,
Boz Scaggs,
Arab on Radar,
Japan,
The Wake,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hoover,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.