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 Qatar and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Monks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moleskins,
X-Ray Spex,
The American Breed,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echospace,
Liliput,
Theoretical Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
The Smoke,
Circle Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
Gang of Four,
Niagra,
Outsiders,
The Kinks,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Half Japanese,
Infiniti,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deakin,
The Last Poets,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MDC,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eurythmics,
The Blues Magoos,
LL Cool J,
Jandek,
Franke,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
OOIOO,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Desert Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Crooked Eye,
R.M.O.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moss Icon,
Young Marble Giants,
Radiohead,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suburban Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eddi Front,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.