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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Smoke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Johnny Clarke,
Maleditus Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scratch Acid,
Jeff Mills,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Q65,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
Man Eating Sloth,
Connie Case,
The Techniques,
cv313,
Althea and Donna,
Fugazi,
Sister Nancy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
Cameo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Talk Talk,
Outsiders,
Scientists,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Kerri Chandler,
L. Decosne,
Faraquet,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
The Red Krayola,
Roger Hodgson,
Sex Pistols,
Gichy Dan,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül II,
The New Christs,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
John Coltrane,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
Shoche,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Underground Resistance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlback,
Freddie Wadling,
Dave Gahan,
Fela Kuti,
Roxette,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.