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 Cyprus and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 Babytalk to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Gang Starr,
Camberwell Now,
The Mojo Men,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jacques Brel,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mantronix,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Howard Jones,
The Gories,
The Fugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiopuhelimet,
E-Dancer,
Ultra Naté,
Mars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barbara Tucker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brand Nubian,
Camouflage,
Popol Vuh,
DNA,
Minor Threat,
Cameo,
Sarah Menescal,
Smog,
Motorama,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
Masters at Work,
Stockholm Monsters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Index,
Skriet,
The Evens,
Bang On A Can,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed,
Essential Logic,
Joyce Sims,
a-ha,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
Faraquet,
Alice Coltrane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Bad Manners,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.