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 Belize and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fire Engines 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Goldenarms,
One Last Wish,
Rufus Thomas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moebius,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Monochrome Set,
Mandrill,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Dolphy,
Newcleus,
Blancmange,
The Evens,
The Fortunes,
Technova,
Thee Headcoats,
Underground Resistance,
Deepchord,
Black Pus,
Schoolly D,
The Motions,
Lucky Dragons,
Spoonie Gee,
The Kinks,
Procol Harum,
The Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Suicide,
The Buckinghams,
Babytalk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joensuu 1685,
Stereo Dub,
Fela Kuti,
the Normal,
Crash Course in Science,
DJ Style,
The Fall,
cv313,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Public Enemy,
Derrick May,
Qualms,
The Electric Prunes,
Harmonia,
The Dirtbombs,
John Cale,
Loose Ends,
T. Rex,
Hasil Adkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Womack,
David McCallum,
Letta Mbulu,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.