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 Malta and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Soul Sonic Force to the crunk 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Ludus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mr. Review,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oblivians,
Newcleus,
Joe Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
F. McDonald,
Supertramp,
JFA,
Jesper Dahlback,
New York Dolls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pierre Henry,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Smoke,
Wire,
Gong,
Joe Finger,
The Trojans,
The Dirtbombs,
The Standells,
Arab on Radar,
Interpol,
The Remains,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Mad Mike,
The United States of America,
Junior Murvin,
Harmonia,
Subhumans,
Gichy Dan,
Wally Richardson,
Josef K,
The Electric Prunes,
Toni Rubio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Leaves,
Eve St. Jones,
Basic Channel,
The Searchers,
Ponytail,
Echospace,
Joensuu 1685,
Half Japanese,
Faraquet,
James White and The Blacks,
R.M.O.,
Peter and Kerry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Flash Fearless,
Eli Mardock,
Morten Harket,
Arcadia,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.