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 Poland and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 David Bowie 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 techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Graham Central Station,
The Invisible,
Black Flag,
The Leaves,
The Slits,
The Detroit Cobras,
Japan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reagan Youth,
Toni Rubio,
The J.B.'s,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fat Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lower 48,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harmonia,
Intrusion,
Mars,
Unwound,
Soft Cell,
Derrick Morgan,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Quadrant,
Moss Icon,
Judy Mowatt,
Y Pants,
Chrome,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
The Real Kids,
Oneida,
Radio Birdman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Buzzcocks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Standells,
Amazonics,
Ponytail,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Glenn Branca,
Cymande,
Stetsasonic,
The Count Five,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Christie,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Monochrome Set,
Supertramp,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.