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 Palau and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Vainqueur,
D'Angelo,
Shuggie Otis,
Second Layer,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Bourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Crime,
John Holt,
Leonard Cohen,
Heaven 17,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Animal Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
China Crisis,
The Dead C,
Loose Ends,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
The Selecter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City,
Bob Dylan,
Amon Düül,
The Wake,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Surgeon,
DJ Style,
Intrusion,
Peter and Kerry,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed,
Negative Approach,
Lalo Schifrin,
Parry Music,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Fugazi,
The Walker Brothers,
Ohio Players,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alison Limerick,
Hot Snakes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eden Ahbez,
Rufus Thomas,
John Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gichy Dan,
Tom Boy,
Severed Heads,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Agent Orange,
Underground Resistance,
The Martian,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.