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 Kuwait and from Bremen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the funk 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Groovy Waters,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Iggy Pop,
48th St. Collective,
Sexual Harrassment,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scion,
Lucky Dragons,
Das Ding,
The Monks,
Eden Ahbez,
Grey Daturas,
X-101,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
Pere Ubu,
The Cure,
Arcadia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Move,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
Thee Headcoats,
Smog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sixth Finger,
Pet Shop Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Negative Approach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
ABBA,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
the Germs,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Enemy,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
a-ha,
Tubeway Army,
Camouflage,
Stereo Dub,
China Crisis,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Music Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lindisfarne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.