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 Cambodia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar 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 Roy Ayers to the grunge 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sister Nancy,
Boz Scaggs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Halsall,
John Lydon,
Subhumans,
The Techniques,
Cybotron,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Golliwogs,
Altered Images,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gichy Dan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
Sugar Minott,
Sonny Sharrock,
Adolescents,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moody Blues,
The Smoke,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fatback Band,
The Misunderstood,
FM Einheit,
Mandrill,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
ABC,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Derrick May,
The Cure,
Tres Demented,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
Underground Resistance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Sheep,
Jeff Mills,
The Doors,
John Holt,
Scrapy,
Robert Görl,
Juan Atkins,
Aswad,
Warren Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Arab on Radar,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fear,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.