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 Vanuatu and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 The United States of America 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Kayak,
Saccharine Trust,
Johnny Clarke,
Stereo Dub,
Guru Guru,
Quadrant,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
The Real Kids,
The Beau Brummels,
Easy Going,
Graham Central Station,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantytec,
The Divine Comedy,
Procol Harum,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
Agent Orange,
Inner City,
Bad Manners,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sam Rivers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Infiniti,
Derrick May,
Deadbeat,
U.S. Maple,
The Dirtbombs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
kango's stein massive,
the Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Starr,
Yellowson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wally Richardson,
Y Pants,
China Crisis,
OOIOO,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Happenings,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Boredoms,
Marvin Gaye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pole,
Motorama,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.