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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 X-102 to the rock 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
Harry Pussy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Interpol,
Shoche,
The Cure,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
Roxy Music,
Animal Collective,
Sarah Menescal,
Junior Murvin,
Sixth Finger,
cv313,
Nas,
New York Dolls,
Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ponytail,
Hasil Adkins,
Silicon Teens,
Ultra Naté,
Peter & Gordon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented,
Gang Starr,
Qualms,
Archie Shepp,
In Retrospect,
The Index,
Henry Cow,
Technova,
Sugar Minott,
Shuggie Otis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
Lungfish,
Susan Cadogan,
Supertramp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Suburban Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sex Pistols,
The Young Rascals,
Nico,
Iggy Pop,
Black Pus,
Grey Daturas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
The Gun Club,
Cheater Slicks,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.