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 Japan and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lou Reed 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 Siglo XX to the electroclash 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Fear,
EPMD,
The Tremeloes,
Bush Tetras,
Q65,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gories,
Flipper,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boredoms,
Boz Scaggs,
Intrusion,
Kayak,
Alphaville,
Crash Course in Science,
Agent Orange,
Tres Demented,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Black Dice,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Davy DMX,
Kerrie Biddell,
Charles Mingus,
The Slits,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül,
Ohio Players,
Archie Shepp,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Brand Nubian,
Kas Product,
Dead Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Niagra,
The Slackers,
The Busters,
Sun Ra,
Severed Heads,
The Durutti Column,
UT,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Make Up,
Los Fastidios,
10cc,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blancmange,
Pierre Henry,
Pantytec,
Icehouse,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Lou Christie,
Roy Ayers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.