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 St Lucia and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rites of Spring to the dance 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Bluetip,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L.,
Maleditus Sound,
The Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Move,
the Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
Surgeon,
U.S. Maple,
The Skatalites,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camouflage,
Eve St. Jones,
Barrington Levy,
The Fire Engines,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
Mantronix,
Hoover,
The Black Dice,
The Fortunes,
Derrick May,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brand Nubian,
Aswad,
Fugazi,
Hashim,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fuzztones,
Brothers Johnson,
Hardrive,
The Leaves,
Yellowson,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Womack,
Vainqueur,
The Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
Buzzcocks,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erasure,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Fatback Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Howard Jones,
L. Decosne,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.