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 Sweden and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Fuzztones to the crunk 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barbara Tucker,
Girls At Our Best!,
Al Stewart,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mojo Men,
Hasil Adkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric B and Rakim,
Motorama,
Ice-T,
Nas,
Mo-Dettes,
Ituana,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Outsiders,
Nik Kershaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Kenny Larkin,
Rekid,
Spoonie Gee,
The Vogues,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Happenings,
Subhumans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harry Pussy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Associates,
World's Most,
Jawbox,
Model 500,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Simply Red,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
Toni Rubio,
Underground Resistance,
EPMD,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Warsaw,
Quadrant,
Electric Light Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
Boz Scaggs,
James White and The Blacks,
the Sonics,
Kas Product,
Moebius,
Crime,
Mad Mike,
The Gun Club,
L. Decosne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gap Band,
Echospace,
The American Breed,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.