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 Chile and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scion to the grime 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Khruangbin,
Fear,
The Gap Band,
Reagan Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Silicon Teens,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fugazi,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Red Krayola,
Fela Kuti,
Subhumans,
a-ha,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moleskins,
Sonic Youth,
June Days,
Second Layer,
Qualms,
The Grass Roots,
The United States of America,
Skriet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
48th St. Collective,
The Fall,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Detroit Cobras,
Babytalk,
Joyce Sims,
Scientists,
The Trojans,
Carl Craig,
Alton Ellis,
The Cramps,
Intrusion,
Magazine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
Monolake,
Yusef Lateef,
Funky Four + One,
Vladislav Delay,
The Beau Brummels,
Can,
The Leaves,
Bobby Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Laurel Aitken,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.