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 Benin and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pere Ubu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Aloha Tigers,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
PIL,
Zapp,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Womack,
Soft Cell,
DNA,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Deadbeat,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Index,
Brass Construction,
the Swans,
The Gladiators,
Bad Manners,
Procol Harum,
Lou Christie,
Ronnie Foster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Aural Exciters,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Starr,
Scratch Acid,
Cal Tjader,
kango's stein massive,
Howard Jones,
Grauzone,
Zero Boys,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crooked Eye,
The Residents,
Mad Mike,
Bluetip,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sam Rivers,
Angry Samoans,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
The Skatalites,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Smog,
Joensuu 1685,
Cymande,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joy Division,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.