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 Tonga and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Pussy Galore to the funk 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Swans,
Brick,
Alton Ellis,
Marshall Jefferson,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slave,
Sixth Finger,
Popol Vuh,
World's Most,
Terry Callier,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Loose Ends,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Schoolly D,
Con Funk Shun,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
The Wake,
Wally Richardson,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacques Brel,
Yellowson,
David Bowie,
Janne Schatter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Q65,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Al Stewart,
Leonard Cohen,
Morten Harket,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Move,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy Collins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sister Nancy,
The Searchers,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deadbeat,
Pulsallama,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
Chrome,
Pagans,
Pussy Galore,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.