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 Benin and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Don Cherry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Moody Blues,
The Standells,
The Offenders,
Accadde A,
Intrusion,
Roxette,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sixth Finger,
Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Reagan Youth,
The Saints,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Qualms,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yellowson,
Jawbox,
Camberwell Now,
Wolf Eyes,
Magma,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flash Fearless,
Sam Rivers,
Hot Snakes,
Tom Boy,
Jerry's Kids,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Nico,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mark Hollis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pierre Henry,
Public Enemy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeff Lynne,
Von Mondo,
Pylon,
Minutemen,
Crooked Eye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aural Exciters,
Wings,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thompson Twins,
The Stooges,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gichy Dan,
Glambeats Corp.,
JFA,
The Real Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Pus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.