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 Saudi Arabia and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Kerri Chandler to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
the Human League,
The Gladiators,
Danielle Patucci,
Cecil Taylor,
FM Einheit,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxette,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bush Tetras,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Connie Case,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood,
Junior Murvin,
10cc,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Curtis Mayfield,
These Immortal Souls,
Shuggie Otis,
Interpol,
Marvin Gaye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fear,
Cybotron,
The Busters,
The Sonics,
Section 25,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacob Miller,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
Monolake,
Thompson Twins,
MC5,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Magazine,
Loose Ends,
Main Source,
Pierre Henry,
Shoche,
The Dead C,
The Red Krayola,
Tears for Fears,
Malaria!,
Barbara Tucker,
Reagan Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suicide,
Patti Smith,
Television,
Marc Almond,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.