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 Gambia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Human League,
The Mojo Men,
FM Einheit,
Altered Images,
Josef K,
Half Japanese,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gap Band,
The Mummies,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Camberwell Now,
Animal Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Eric Dolphy,
David Bowie,
The Neon Judgement,
Severed Heads,
The Motions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gil Scott Heron,
L. Decosne,
Archie Shepp,
Mantronix,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
K-Klass,
a-ha,
Lyres,
James Chance & The Contortions,
E-Dancer,
Motorama,
Lower 48,
The Buckinghams,
Matthew Bourne,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
Don Cherry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mandrill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Scientists,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Iggy Pop,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers,
The Knickerbockers,
Slick Rick,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.