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 Lebanon and from Manchester.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Harry Pussy to the disco 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Franke,
PIL,
Grauzone,
Desert Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Görl,
Amon Düül II,
Skarface,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gang Green,
Bobbi Humphrey,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
Todd Rundgren,
Bluetip,
Leonard Cohen,
Oblivians,
Ken Boothe,
Scan 7,
Roger Hodgson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Panda Bear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Icehouse,
Agent Orange,
Sight & Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Oneida,
Albert Ayler,
Unrelated Segments,
Siglo XX,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eddi Front,
Isaac Hayes,
The Count Five,
B.T. Express,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Schoolly D,
The Moleskins,
Robert Wyatt,
Cameo,
Fela Kuti,
Kerrie Biddell,
48th St. Collective,
Bang On A Can,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Smoke,
Cybotron,
Slave,
Can,
Nico,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donny Hathaway,
The Blues Magoos,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.