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 Yemen and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Smoke to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
Morten Harket,
John Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
Groovy Waters,
Cecil Taylor,
The Saints,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joey Negro,
Terrestrial Tones,
Parry Music,
The Zeros,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Slave,
PIL,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wolf Eyes,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Tommy Roe,
The Searchers,
Marine Girls,
Magma,
Sugar Minott,
Sällskapet,
Depeche Mode,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
ABBA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aloha Tigers,
Goldenarms,
Isaac Hayes,
Japan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
Marvin Gaye,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Star Department,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.