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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Organ to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review,
Unrelated Segments,
X-Ray Spex,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
The Techniques,
Loose Ends,
Gang Green,
Simply Red,
E-Dancer,
Soft Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Birthday Party,
The Gap Band,
The Victims,
The Slits,
The Moleskins,
Stiv Bators,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rapeman,
Cheater Slicks,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Blackbyrds,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scion,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
Thompson Twins,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suburban Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultra Naté,
Pierre Henry,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
OOIOO,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Y Pants,
Glenn Branca,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mojo Men,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Maleditus Sound,
The United States of America,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.