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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pretty Things to the rap 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Chris & Cosey,
Symarip,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Young Marble Giants,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rotary Connection,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sonics,
This Heat,
Alison Limerick,
Deakin,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Rundgren,
Bill Near,
the Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
D'Angelo,
Bush Tetras,
Hasil Adkins,
KRS-One,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Anthony Braxton,
Cecil Taylor,
Lakeside,
Joey Negro,
The Gladiators,
Crooked Eye,
Bad Manners,
Lower 48,
Saccharine Trust,
Moss Icon,
Marvin Gaye,
Sexual Harrassment,
Porter Ricks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Osbourne,
Funkadelic,
Funky Four + One,
The Real Kids,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Toni Rubio,
The Human League,
Sex Pistols,
The Searchers,
Graham Central Station,
Agent Orange,
OOIOO,
a-ha,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
The Red Krayola,
Ronan,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.