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 Somalia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Second Layer to the disco 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Charles Mingus,
Wolf Eyes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Derrick Morgan,
DNA,
Outsiders,
The Move,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Fall,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joy Division,
The Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Rites of Spring,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MC5,
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Andrew Hill,
The Evens,
Bill Wells,
Robert Wyatt,
Can,
T. Rex,
Bad Manners,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dawn Penn,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Music Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sugar Minott,
Jawbox,
Blake Baxter,
X-102,
Newcleus,
Sparks,
Roy Ayers,
Reagan Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pop Group,
Sound Behaviour,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Smiths,
Von Mondo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
Brass Construction,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.