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 Guinea-Bissau and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Victims to the rap 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Roger Hodgson,
T.S.O.L.,
Brass Construction,
Terry Callier,
Technova,
Shoche,
The Misunderstood,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Raincoats,
June of 44,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
The Toasters,
Surgeon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bluetip,
The Saints,
Gang Gang Dance,
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
Subhumans,
Delta 5,
DJ Sneak,
Altered Images,
Rapeman,
Suicide,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
Eli Mardock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agitation Free,
Joyce Sims,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Associates,
The Names,
Television,
Pussy Galore,
Curtis Mayfield,
Audionom,
Bizarre Inc.,
Absolute Body Control,
Outsiders,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gories,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Byron Stingily,
Eddi Front,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sixth Finger,
UT,
Masters at Work,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.