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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Marshall Jefferson to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
The Doors,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oblivians,
Parry Music,
Mandrill,
Barbara Tucker,
Tres Demented,
Mars,
Visage,
Tim Buckley,
Moby Grape,
E-Dancer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The American Breed,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Offenders,
Roger Hodgson,
Talk Talk,
MC5,
The Angels of Light,
Harmonia,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Section 25,
Boz Scaggs,
Panda Bear,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young,
The Litter,
Tom Boy,
Funky Four + One,
Anakelly,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
the Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Golliwogs,
David Axelrod,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joey Negro,
Robert Wyatt,
10cc,
Hardrive,
the Association,
The Sonics,
Make Up,
The Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Excepter,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Five Americans,
Ituana,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Icehouse,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.