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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Nils Olav to the grime 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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Absolute Body Control,
Icehouse,
Boredoms,
X-101,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Divine Comedy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blake Baxter,
Organ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Section 25,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Howard Jones,
Procol Harum,
Severed Heads,
Marmalade,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Danielle Patucci,
James White and The Blacks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hashim,
The Pop Group,
Lalann,
Roxy Music,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Human League,
Marvin Gaye,
Pagans,
Derrick May,
Delon & Dalcan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
D'Angelo,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
Fatback Band,
ABBA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barrington Levy,
Morten Harket,
Unrelated Segments,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slave,
Youth Brigade,
The Dave Clark Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alice Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
The Trojans,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.