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 Guyana and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grunge 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Suicide 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Whodini,
Swans,
Kenny Larkin,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
Terry Callier,
Soulsonic Force,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deakin,
Rapeman,
The Litter,
John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Smiths,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
Pagans,
UT,
DNA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cowsills,
Swell Maps,
Buzzcocks,
The Doors,
The Barracudas,
David McCallum,
Easy Going,
Flipper,
Dark Day,
Chrome,
The Saints,
Connie Case,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
Hashim,
The Grass Roots,
Flash Fearless,
La Düsseldorf,
FM Einheit,
Mandrill,
Nils Olav,
Y Pants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Symarip,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ten City,
Hot Snakes,
Theoretical Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Hoover,
MDC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultravox,
Fort Wilson Riot,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.