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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 Johnny Osbourne to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scientists,
Gastr Del Sol,
Agitation Free,
Jerry's Kids,
Hashim,
Sun Ra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Angry Samoans,
Black Flag,
Schoolly D,
Hoover,
The Real Kids,
Inner City,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter and Kerry,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
John Lydon,
Heaven 17,
Lakeside,
Tommy Roe,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantaleimon,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Stetsasonic,
Mantronix,
Silicon Teens,
Nils Olav,
Rod Modell,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
The Invisible,
Rufus Thomas,
Suicide,
Symarip,
Janne Schatter,
Byron Stingily,
Clear Light,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rosa Yemen,
Lindisfarne,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Patti Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
Faust,
Deakin,
Mad Mike,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.