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 Yemen and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
CMW,
The Neon Judgement,
Swans,
Faust,
Don Cherry,
Intrusion,
X-102,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
Brothers Johnson,
Minutemen,
Scion,
Bootsy Collins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
Lalann,
Bill Near,
Blake Baxter,
Man Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Nirvana,
Mars,
Scan 7,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Names,
The Wake,
AZ,
The Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Grauzone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Moss Icon,
the Sonics,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Inner City,
The Smoke,
The Shadows of Knight,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fat Boys,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
Deadbeat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tubeway Army,
Soft Machine,
KRS-One,
Sonic Youth,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.