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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Tim Buckley to the punk 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Wyatt,
Surgeon,
Colin Newman,
Amon Düül,
a-ha,
The Misunderstood,
Chris & Cosey,
Slave,
The Associates,
the Normal,
Massinfluence,
Delta 5,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lungfish,
Altered Images,
Iggy Pop,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deadbeat,
Agent Orange,
Wire,
Lower 48,
Eve St. Jones,
Kas Product,
Bob Dylan,
Lakeside,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Association,
Aswad,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
Wally Richardson,
Hot Snakes,
Bauhaus,
Roy Ayers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Susan Cadogan,
Quadrant,
The Black Dice,
Visage,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Porter Ricks,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Bronski Beat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Von Mondo,
Fluxion,
Excepter,
Mantronix,
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.