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 Bolivia and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare 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 Bill Near to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
Eric Copeland,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fad Gadget,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Gang Dance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Techniques,
Skriet,
Animal Collective,
Anthony Braxton,
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Machine,
Wire,
The Litter,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme,
Panda Bear,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joensuu 1685,
In Retrospect,
Ornette Coleman,
Letta Mbulu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ituana,
Scientists,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
Pantytec,
Robert Wyatt,
Cal Tjader,
Swell Maps,
Visage,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Prince Buster,
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
The Saints,
The Martian,
Patti Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
Slick Rick,
The Cure,
Intrusion,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
Joe Smooth,
The Skatalites,
Fatback Band,
John Lydon,
Faust,
E-Dancer,
Bill Wells,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.