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 Zambia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Newcleus to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats 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?
The Mummies,
Thee Headcoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Skatalites,
Aaron Thompson,
Warsaw,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Von Mondo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Prince Buster,
Marmalade,
Anthony Braxton,
The Misunderstood,
Eli Mardock,
Godley & Creme,
Fela Kuti,
Drexciya,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zapp,
Popol Vuh,
Roxy Music,
Vladislav Delay,
Sparks,
Crooked Eye,
Circle Jerks,
The Remains,
The Gories,
Make Up,
Eden Ahbez,
Donald Byrd,
Ultra Naté,
Moebius,
The Gap Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Happenings,
Nils Olav,
The Selecter,
Marc Almond,
Rakim,
H. Thieme,
Ornette Coleman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Althea and Donna,
The Motions,
Black Moon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sandy B,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Khruangbin,
Morten Harket,
Joyce Sims,
Carl Craig,
Subhumans,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Knickerbockers,
Visage,
Aural Exciters,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.