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 Slovenia and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Residents to the punk 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Moon,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
Laurel Aitken,
Saccharine Trust,
Barrington Levy,
Bang On A Can,
This Heat,
Yusef Lateef,
Simply Red,
New Age Steppers,
Guru Guru,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
Black Sheep,
Mr. Review,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Bill Wells,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
Shuggie Otis,
Make Up,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Clarke,
Aural Exciters,
Harmonia,
Alton Ellis,
Subhumans,
Blancmange,
Freddie Wadling,
Swans,
Lindisfarne,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Axelrod,
Crime,
Zapp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fat Boys,
Skaos,
Ken Boothe,
Motorama,
Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Mary Jane Girls,
Al Stewart,
The Angels of Light,
the Slits,
R.M.O.,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.