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 Iceland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Iggy Pop to the disco 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sex Pistols,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bluetip,
The Fuzztones,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Trojans,
The Invisible,
The Smiths,
Lower 48,
Pharoah Sanders,
Byron Stingily,
the Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Agent Orange,
Joy Division,
Bootsy Collins,
Section 25,
Henry Cow,
Sight & Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Technova,
Juan Atkins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pylon,
Liliput,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fela Kuti,
MDC,
Barry Ungar,
Junior Murvin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Agitation Free,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacob Miller,
Reagan Youth,
D'Angelo,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DJ Sneak,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gun Club,
10cc,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
The Dead C,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Count Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Evens,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Toni Rubio,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.