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 Uzbekistan and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Andrew Hill to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Angels of Light,
Jimmy McGriff,
Surgeon,
The Mojo Men,
Franke,
Scan 7,
Fugazi,
Black Bananas,
Visage,
Buzzcocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Davy DMX,
DJ Sneak,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Alarm Clocks,
Talk Talk,
K-Klass,
Monks,
Sällskapet,
Oblivians,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
Shuggie Otis,
Bronski Beat,
Yellowson,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Mills,
Eric Dolphy,
Stereo Dub,
Organ,
Goldenarms,
Bluetip,
Mr. Review,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Groovy Waters,
The Stooges,
Japan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Inner City,
Lakeside,
Quantec,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Gang Starr,
Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABBA,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Sheep,
DNA,
The Zeros,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.