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 Denmark and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin 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 Main Source to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacob Miller,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warsaw,
Reuben Wilson,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
Ossler,
Barrington Levy,
Eurythmics,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
Ten City,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
The Cramps,
Supertramp,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
Kaleidoscope,
Roxy Music,
Cluster,
Duran Duran,
The Barracudas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Shoche,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
DJ Sneak,
Pantaleimon,
Gong,
Joy Division,
Moebius,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bauhaus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dirtbombs,
Minny Pops,
Derrick May,
Average White Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Normal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Depeche Mode,
Iggy Pop,
Metal Thangz,
Fela Kuti,
Excepter,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.