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 Belarus and from Shanghai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Sixth Finger to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot 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?
Drexciya,
Lalann,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Excepter,
Electric Prunes,
John Foxx,
John Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
The Velvet Underground,
Main Source,
Iggy Pop,
The Slackers,
Pylon,
Rites of Spring,
Model 500,
Au Pairs,
The Invisible,
Kerri Chandler,
Magma,
The Monks,
Schoolly D,
Amazonics,
Gabor Szabo,
The Vogues,
Slick Rick,
Siglo XX,
This Heat,
Hashim,
Angry Samoans,
Lakeside,
Andrew Hill,
New Order,
Public Enemy,
Robert Wyatt,
FM Einheit,
Jacques Brel,
Byron Stingily,
The Durutti Column,
The Pretty Things,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
Qualms,
Black Pus,
The Blackbyrds,
Wally Richardson,
Rosa Yemen,
Television,
Alice Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fear,
Brand Nubian,
Ohio Players,
Pagans,
China Crisis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nas,
Nils Olav,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.