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 Bulgaria and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Ronan,
Lightning Bolt,
Hashim,
David Bowie,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
Intrusion,
The Divine Comedy,
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Neu!,
The Busters,
Mantronix,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donny Hathaway,
R.M.O.,
Soul II Soul,
Blossom Toes,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stiv Bators,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brass Construction,
Sun City Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Bluetip,
T. Rex,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dark Day,
H. Thieme,
The Wake,
The Buckinghams,
Scrapy,
The Pop Group,
Rites of Spring,
The Mummies,
The Toasters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soft Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Anakelly,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crash Course in Science,
Groovy Waters,
Agitation Free,
The Monochrome Set,
Ornette Coleman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Khruangbin,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.