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 Vietnam and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Fall to the funk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
Rod Modell,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moby Grape,
James White and The Blacks,
DNA,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Görl,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacques Brel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Holt,
Michelle Simonal,
Lower 48,
L. Decosne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
Patti Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacob Miller,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Walker Brothers,
Visage,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
World's Most,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
Davy DMX,
Minny Pops,
Qualms,
The Angels of Light,
Chris & Cosey,
Quantec,
Susan Cadogan,
Harry Pussy,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
The Residents,
Surgeon,
Interpol,
The Count Five,
Hardrive,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Niagra,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Slave,
Q65,
Glambeats Corp.,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.