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 Syria and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Last Poets to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aaron Thompson,
Surgeon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Pretty Things,
Davy DMX,
Black Moon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Das Ding,
Mars,
Soulsonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
Bauhaus,
Echospace,
Al Stewart,
The Vogues,
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
Nik Kershaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Schoolly D,
The Slits,
Darondo,
Juan Atkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Knickerbockers,
Can,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Hood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Los Fastidios,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
The Victims,
Outsiders,
The Litter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Brand Nubian,
Wire,
Prince Buster,
T. Rex,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Clarke,
the Sonics,
Hardrive,
Fatback Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stereo Dub,
DJ Style,
It's A Beautiful Day,
LL Cool J,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Visage,
Trumans Water,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.