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 Slovenia and from Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bizarre Inc. to the rock 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quando Quango,
Tears for Fears,
The Wake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dennis Brown,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faraquet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
Supertramp,
Excepter,
David Axelrod,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Das Ding,
Robert Görl,
Harry Pussy,
Harmonia,
Morten Harket,
Black Sheep,
The American Breed,
New Order,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
Theoretical Girls,
KRS-One,
Reagan Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gun Club,
Ituana,
Sister Nancy,
Tomorrow,
Barrington Levy,
The Happenings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nirvana,
Von Mondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
June Days,
The Selecter,
Siglo XX,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
Magma,
Letta Mbulu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faust,
Kayak,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fall,
The Sound,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.