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 Taipei.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the grime 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Nico,
Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
Funky Four + One,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Rapeman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
ABC,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lucky Dragons,
Thompson Twins,
The Doors,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
H. Thieme,
The Grass Roots,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magma,
The Toasters,
The Buckinghams,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry's Kids,
Guru Guru,
Scion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Saints,
Bush Tetras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Panda Bear,
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
June of 44,
The Evens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun Ra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Nas,
The Sound,
Scan 7,
The Cramps,
The Pop Group,
Suburban Knight,
Funkadelic,
Robert Görl,
The Dead C,
Siglo XX,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed,
Massinfluence,
The J.B.'s,
Alice Coltrane,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.