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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Offenders to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Byron Stingily,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers,
Patti Smith,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Howard Jones,
The Gladiators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cybotron,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ohio Players,
The Remains,
MC5,
Joe Smooth,
Andrew Hill,
Arthur Verocai,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sister Nancy,
Guru Guru,
Banda Bassotti,
Soul II Soul,
Stereo Dub,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television Personalities,
Kayak,
L. Decosne,
Black Bananas,
Smog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Evens,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sonics,
Bobby Sherman,
Wasted Youth,
Negative Approach,
The New Christs,
Robert Wyatt,
Boredoms,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
the Fania All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Laurel Aitken,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Style,
Deepchord,
Mo-Dettes,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.