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 Iran and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Bananas,
La Düsseldorf,
Crash Course in Science,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Infiniti,
The Remains,
Slave,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Saints,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
Procol Harum,
Skarface,
Neil Young,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minnie Riperton,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barbara Tucker,
Eden Ahbez,
Marvin Gaye,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DNA,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monks,
The Raincoats,
The Slits,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Simply Red,
Susan Cadogan,
Symarip,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gap Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Copeland,
Lalann,
Animal Collective,
Ultravox,
The Smiths,
Marmalade,
Ossler,
Cymande,
Lucky Dragons,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
The Pretty Things,
Skriet,
Morten Harket,
Jerry's Kids,
Dual Sessions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Charles Mingus,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.