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 Slovakia and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
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 clarinet 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Kurtis Blow,
Marvin Gaye,
The Count Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra,
Ultra Naté,
EPMD,
Pantytec,
Susan Cadogan,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Glenn Branca,
The New Christs,
Cecil Taylor,
The Techniques,
Funkadelic,
KRS-One,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fluxion,
Spoonie Gee,
Althea and Donna,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tubeway Army,
Peter & Gordon,
Au Pairs,
Alison Limerick,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
The Sound,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
Mars,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Pretty Things,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Hood,
10cc,
Mission of Burma,
Yaz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crime,
Rekid,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Enemy,
Dual Sessions,
Gabor Szabo,
Mark Hollis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Goldenarms,
Rotary Connection,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.