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 Rwanda and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Drive Like Jehu to the jazz 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eddi Front,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Pop Group,
The Trojans,
Duran Duran,
Jacques Brel,
The Barracudas,
Man Eating Sloth,
K-Klass,
Sparks,
Lungfish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultra Naté,
Bauhaus,
Godley & Creme,
Radiohead,
The United States of America,
Amazonics,
The Velvet Underground,
The Victims,
Whodini,
The Kinks,
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Desert Stars,
Deepchord,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
Monolake,
Scott Walker,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rekid,
Black Moon,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Livin' Joy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Josef K,
Oneida,
Neu!,
Dennis Brown,
Brand Nubian,
Wings,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Lynne,
Leonard Cohen,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Knickerbockers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.