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 St Lucia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Little Man,
Nils Olav,
Sparks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Funkadelic,
Minnie Riperton,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Desert Stars,
Grauzone,
Schoolly D,
The Raincoats,
Mark Hollis,
Masters at Work,
Das Ding,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Infiniti,
The Monks,
Reuben Wilson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marine Girls,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Gong,
Liliput,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Malaria!,
the Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Crime,
Guru Guru,
Robert Wyatt,
Accadde A,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
Ultravox,
The Wake,
Y Pants,
Swans,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roy Ayers,
Camberwell Now,
Traffic Nightmare,
Groovy Waters,
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Minutemen,
Pantytec,
Mad Mike,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.