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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Warsaw to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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?
A Certain Ratio,
Joensuu 1685,
The Selecter,
Animal Collective,
Hashim,
Howard Jones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barrington Levy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Byrd,
Nico,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios,
Pussy Galore,
Royal Trux,
The Birthday Party,
Sound Behaviour,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oneida,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Khruangbin,
The Angels of Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
David Axelrod,
The Slits,
The Searchers,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Moon,
Supertramp,
Niagra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Buzzcocks,
Tom Boy,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Osbourne,
Clear Light,
Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Nils Olav,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terry Callier,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mad Mike,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Todd Terry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.