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 Equatorial Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Last Poets to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
The Moody Blues,
the Normal,
New York Dolls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Drexciya,
Arcadia,
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Carl Craig,
Guru Guru,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Last Poets,
The Gories,
Lightning Bolt,
Swans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scrapy,
Slick Rick,
Iggy Pop,
The Flesh Eaters,
JFA,
Janne Schatter,
The Real Kids,
Minny Pops,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Angels of Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Joe Finger,
Fugazi,
Brick,
June of 44,
Kaleidoscope,
Reagan Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Freddie Wadling,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Leonard Cohen,
Quadrant,
The Offenders,
These Immortal Souls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Charles Mingus,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
The Remains,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.