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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 The Moleskins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Faraquet,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bush Tetras,
Nico,
Bill Near,
The Shadows of Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerrie Biddell,
Monks,
a-ha,
The Skatalites,
the Sonics,
Model 500,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Colin Newman,
Cheater Slicks,
Sound Behaviour,
the Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Boredoms,
Morten Harket,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Frankie Knuckles,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
The Doobie Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ronnie Foster,
Crime,
U.S. Maple,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
The Standells,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Interpol,
Sun City Girls,
The Associates,
Crash Course in Science,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
The Gories,
Simply Red,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Arthur Verocai,
The Last Poets,
The Gladiators,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
H. Thieme,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.