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 Egypt and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Black Pus to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Divine Comedy,
Zapp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Surgeon,
The Searchers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lyres,
Ronnie Foster,
Boz Scaggs,
Letta Mbulu,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
Suburban Knight,
Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Bush Tetras,
Lalann,
Sandy B,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moebius,
Roy Ayers,
Nico,
Charles Mingus,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chris Corsano,
Erasure,
Quando Quango,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Lydon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Suicide,
KRS-One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ten City,
Donald Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Motorama,
Neil Young,
Silicon Teens,
The Gories,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amazonics,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.