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 United Kingdom and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lightning Bolt to the funk 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Sound Behaviour,
Davy DMX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerri Chandler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Move,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang On A Can,
Little Man,
UT,
The Standells,
Chrome,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Thompson Twins,
Peter & Gordon,
Pere Ubu,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Joy Division,
June of 44,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Ossler,
Country Teasers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sugar Minott,
The Techniques,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Darondo,
Gabor Szabo,
F. McDonald,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Morten Harket,
Sight & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Cymande,
The Remains,
The Grass Roots,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rites of Spring,
Whodini,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gun Club,
Drexciya,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.