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 Azerbaijan and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Traffic Nightmare to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Cure,
Bang On A Can,
The Last Poets,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Nils Olav,
X-Ray Spex,
Second Layer,
Gang of Four,
Rakim,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tubeway Army,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
Minnie Riperton,
Hashim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Peter & Gordon,
Tim Buckley,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alton Ellis,
The Selecter,
the Association,
D'Angelo,
Rotary Connection,
Agitation Free,
Kenny Larkin,
Banda Bassotti,
Darondo,
Sandy B,
The Divine Comedy,
The Residents,
La Düsseldorf,
Nico,
The Golliwogs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Adolescents,
Zero Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crime,
Siglo XX,
Make Up,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cramps,
Joyce Sims,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.