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 Senegal and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jacob Miller to the rap 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Goldenarms,
Graham Central Station,
Loose Ends,
Symarip,
Pere Ubu,
Nik Kershaw,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
Scratch Acid,
Eddi Front,
Shoche,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
Eve St. Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Drive Like Jehu,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
Alphaville,
Piero Umiliani,
Ossler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Infiniti,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
K-Klass,
Funky Four + One,
The Gap Band,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
FM Einheit,
The Misunderstood,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Flipper,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cure,
T.S.O.L.,
The Trojans,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
Stockholm Monsters,
cv313,
Metal Thangz,
Josef K,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
Camouflage,
Nirvana,
The Happenings,
Henry Cow,
Maleditus Sound,
The Names,
The Residents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Banda Bassotti,
Qualms,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.