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 Nigeria and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arab on Radar to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Thee Headcoats,
Rotary Connection,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
CMW,
ABBA,
Accadde A,
Bang On A Can,
Fugazi,
Aaron Thompson,
The Martian,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nico,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moleskins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Litter,
Loose Ends,
The Vogues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Move,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scion,
In Retrospect,
The Standells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Toasters,
Audionom,
Joe Finger,
Newcleus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David Bowie,
Gong,
Warsaw,
The United States of America,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Funkadelic,
Quando Quango,
Don Cherry,
Eurythmics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rapeman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neu!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
X-Ray Spex,
Lower 48,
Black Sheep,
Young Marble Giants,
Lou Reed,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.