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 Turkey and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kenny Larkin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
Fugazi,
The Blues Magoos,
Youth Brigade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spandau Ballet,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Scott Walker,
Newcleus,
the Association,
Bauhaus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Urselle,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Slits,
Bronski Beat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grey Daturas,
Maleditus Sound,
Swans,
Zapp,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The United States of America,
Juan Atkins,
Toni Rubio,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cluster,
The Kinks,
The Birthday Party,
Sällskapet,
Quantec,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
Subhumans,
The Offenders,
The Index,
Junior Murvin,
Al Stewart,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Wells,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan,
The Happenings,
David Axelrod,
Groovy Waters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blake Baxter,
One Last Wish,
Chrome,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.