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 Singapore and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Wally Richardson to the disco 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Byron Stingily,
The Tremeloes,
Drexciya,
Half Japanese,
Interpol,
The Moody Blues,
Spoonie Gee,
Cheater Slicks,
Khruangbin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kerri Chandler,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Machine,
Skriet,
Fear,
Charles Mingus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Second Layer,
The Litter,
Pylon,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Procol Harum,
Joy Division,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T.S.O.L.,
The Remains,
Robert Hood,
Sound Behaviour,
Tres Demented,
Crispy Ambulance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Audionom,
Avey Tare,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cramps,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
Neu!,
Wasted Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rhythm & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Rapeman,
Brass Construction,
The Move,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oneida,
MDC,
Robert Görl,
Bob Dylan,
Toni Rubio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Al Stewart,
Deepchord,
John Holt,
The Walker Brothers,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.