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 Libya and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Susan Cadogan to the grime 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Pus,
Sandy B,
DJ Style,
David McCallum,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Agitation Free,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
Black Sheep,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Whodini,
F. McDonald,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
Kas Product,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Colin Newman,
The Blackbyrds,
Patti Smith,
Flipper,
Sister Nancy,
The Raincoats,
Peter & Gordon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
Shuggie Otis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Smog,
Technova,
Desert Stars,
Swell Maps,
Spoonie Gee,
The Invisible,
Lyres,
The Martian,
Yusef Lateef,
Mo-Dettes,
Leonard Cohen,
The Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Royal Trux,
Bob Dylan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Howard Jones,
Slick Rick,
Hashim,
The Fortunes,
Archie Shepp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pussy Galore,
OOIOO,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.