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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sonny Sharrock to the electroclash 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Fear,
The Stooges,
Skaos,
Lightning Bolt,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Moon,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Remains,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Golliwogs,
The Fortunes,
Mars,
Mission of Burma,
Black Sheep,
The Happenings,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moss Icon,
Man Parrish,
Ossler,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
Minutemen,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bauhaus,
Audionom,
Amon Düül,
F. McDonald,
Isaac Hayes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
PIL,
Amon Düül II,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Prince Buster,
The Selecter,
Pagans,
Pole,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Whodini,
Qualms,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cure,
Alice Coltrane,
Section 25,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
Khruangbin,
Fela Kuti,
Roxette,
Trumans Water,
Von Mondo,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.