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 Vietnam and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tim Buckley,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New Age Steppers,
Scion,
Derrick May,
ABC,
CMW,
Blake Baxter,
Carl Craig,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Moon,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
The Smoke,
Sparks,
Fatback Band,
Scrapy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Can,
The Index,
Funky Four + One,
Warren Ellis,
F. McDonald,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
H. Thieme,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr,
Index,
Ossler,
Massinfluence,
John Lydon,
Los Fastidios,
Popol Vuh,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
Brothers Johnson,
The Neon Judgement,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Machine,
The Saints,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sound Behaviour,
Camouflage,
U.S. Maple,
Joey Negro,
June of 44,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.