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 Brunei and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Motions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
L. Decosne,
Rod Modell,
The Selecter,
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
New York Dolls,
Mantronix,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Infiniti,
Monolake,
Theoretical Girls,
X-101,
Darondo,
The Names,
Tears for Fears,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Swans,
Al Stewart,
Crooked Eye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Gichy Dan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
The Tremeloes,
The Gladiators,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joyce Sims,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
The Sonics,
Rapeman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ten City,
Scientists,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Radio Birdman,
Faust,
Zero Boys,
Drexciya,
Excepter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
Jawbox,
The Martian,
Mars,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.