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 Palau and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Erykah Badu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Monolake,
Bill Near,
the Slits,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
FM Einheit,
Scion,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mojo Men,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Scott Walker,
Blancmange,
Faust,
New York Dolls,
Buzzcocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Real Kids,
JFA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Aural Exciters,
Fugazi,
Sister Nancy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deepchord,
Fad Gadget,
Roxy Music,
Rhythm & Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Excepter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kaleidoscope,
Aloha Tigers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Public Image Ltd.,
Essential Logic,
Scientists,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
R.M.O.,
Sex Pistols,
Joyce Sims,
The Fortunes,
Colin Newman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sound Behaviour,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
John Holt,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.