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 Kiribati 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Donald Byrd to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Skatalites,
James White and The Blacks,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
the Normal,
Livin' Joy,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Lalann,
Scott Walker,
The Gun Club,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick May,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxette,
The Five Americans,
Shoche,
Nirvana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fear,
The Martian,
Sister Nancy,
The Tremeloes,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
Yellowson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flipper,
the Slits,
Gang Green,
The Fortunes,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crash Course in Science,
Suburban Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
Freddie Wadling,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
a-ha,
Kayak,
Aaron Thompson,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.