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 Tonga and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cowsills to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Symarip,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay,
the Bar-Kays,
Albert Ayler,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Trumans Water,
Audionom,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cameo,
Infiniti,
K-Klass,
Delon & Dalcan,
Underground Resistance,
Ludus,
Negative Approach,
The Remains,
The Doors,
Nirvana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
JFA,
Bad Manners,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
The Toasters,
The Index,
Amazonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Piero Umiliani,
The Tremeloes,
Scott Walker,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacques Brel,
Section 25,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
The Walker Brothers,
Fatback Band,
48th St. Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rites of Spring,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Lalann,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.