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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kenny Larkin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Can,
Davy DMX,
Juan Atkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
X-102,
Black Moon,
The Shadows of Knight,
EPMD,
Funkadelic,
Wolf Eyes,
Depeche Mode,
48th St. Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Angry Samoans,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Bourne,
Mr. Review,
Camberwell Now,
The Star Department,
Clear Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sound,
Scientists,
Ornette Coleman,
Goldenarms,
Michelle Simonal,
Nirvana,
Kurtis Blow,
K-Klass,
The Gap Band,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
Quantec,
Sonic Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Green,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
Echospace,
Althea and Donna,
Simply Red,
AZ,
Marine Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Henry Cow,
Morten Harket,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
The Remains,
The New Christs,
E-Dancer,
Blancmange,
Black Flag,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.