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 Monaco and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Eden Ahbez to the disco 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Don Cherry,
Donny Hathaway,
Magazine,
Trumans Water,
the Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
Yellowson,
Technova,
L. Decosne,
The Fall,
Sister Nancy,
The Offenders,
David Bowie,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ten City,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric Copeland,
The Count Five,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wings,
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Golliwogs,
MC5,
Black Flag,
Camberwell Now,
Brothers Johnson,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smiths,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oneida,
Skarface,
John Lydon,
Bootsy Collins,
Saccharine Trust,
The Kinks,
Patti Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Lakeside,
Supertramp,
Stereo Dub,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Qualms,
Lindisfarne,
Pantytec,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Terry,
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.