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 Norway and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Eric Copeland to the punk 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Loose Ends,
Iggy Pop,
Crooked Eye,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
Dave Gahan,
Stereo Dub,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Faraquet,
The Golliwogs,
Niagra,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra,
the Normal,
Morten Harket,
The Skatalites,
Lyres,
Byron Stingily,
Bang On A Can,
Von Mondo,
Malaria!,
Symarip,
Young Marble Giants,
Nico,
Bootsy Collins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deakin,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
Henry Cow,
Livin' Joy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Ituana,
Ohio Players,
Desert Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
Hoover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Freddie Wadling,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott Heron,
10cc,
Eric Copeland,
Jandek,
Prince Buster,
Joensuu 1685,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Ornette Coleman,
Sister Nancy,
Negative Approach,
Ralphi Rosario,
Porter Ricks,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.