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 Lithuania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blossom Toes to the dance 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Halsall,
Q and Not U,
The Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Juan Atkins,
Eric Copeland,
Nation of Ulysses,
Royal Trux,
The Misunderstood,
Niagra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül,
Clear Light,
Das Ding,
John Holt,
Heaven 17,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
Maurizio,
The Happenings,
Television Personalities,
The Zeros,
Severed Heads,
Sugar Minott,
Drexciya,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Organ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mummies,
Mo-Dettes,
B.T. Express,
The Music Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
The Black Dice,
The Human League,
Siglo XX,
DJ Sneak,
The Dead C,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
Fela Kuti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
the Human League,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Soft Cell,
Ten City,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Chris Corsano,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
ABC,
Japan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Negative Approach,
Alice Coltrane,
Lightning Bolt,
Television,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.