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 Denmark and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeru the Damaja to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Sam Rivers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Archie Shepp,
Mo-Dettes,
the Association,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fela Kuti,
John Holt,
Amon Düül,
Intrusion,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
B.T. Express,
Malaria!,
the Human League,
Thee Headcoats,
Reuben Wilson,
Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
Black Pus,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
One Last Wish,
Metal Thangz,
Silicon Teens,
Eddi Front,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Toni Rubio,
Scion,
Lindisfarne,
La Düsseldorf,
Sight & Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Names,
The Young Rascals,
Organ,
Vainqueur,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
The United States of America,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Matthew Bourne,
Tears for Fears,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Funky Four + One,
Dark Day,
The Fugs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crime,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.