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 Accra.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Country Teasers to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Count Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Babytalk,
The Seeds,
Heaven 17,
Section 25,
The Smiths,
Letta Mbulu,
Albert Ayler,
Maleditus Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fela Kuti,
Cal Tjader,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yellowson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
Oblivians,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Slits,
Ossler,
Jeff Mills,
Barrington Levy,
The Slackers,
Infiniti,
The Gun Club,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
New Age Steppers,
The Cowsills,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
The Dead C,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Delta 5,
Boogie Down Productions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mad Mike,
the Normal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dorothy Ashby,
D'Angelo,
Black Moon,
The Star Department,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crime,
Das Ding,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mars,
Jimmy McGriff,
June of 44,
Pagans,
Vainqueur,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.