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 Armenia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Eric Copeland to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alton Ellis,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yusef Lateef,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Red Krayola,
MC5,
Amon Düül,
Sixth Finger,
Blossom Toes,
EPMD,
Moby Grape,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
Lalo Schifrin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
Porter Ricks,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Outsiders,
Wings,
Brick,
Zero Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
X-Ray Spex,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grey Daturas,
The Dirtbombs,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
The Black Dice,
Royal Trux,
The Velvet Underground,
The Grass Roots,
Warren Ellis,
Oblivians,
Smog,
Eve St. Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lalann,
The New Christs,
Donald Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
Organ,
Swell Maps,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-101,
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
Roxy Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Surgeon,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.