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 Monaco and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Fire Engines to the crunk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The Associates,
Scan 7,
John Holt,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Unwound,
Hoover,
Sarah Menescal,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DNA,
Smog,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Martian,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
Deakin,
Slave,
Lucky Dragons,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Von Mondo,
Hashim,
Aloha Tigers,
Silicon Teens,
Lyres,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brothers Johnson,
Nick Fraelich,
Roger Hodgson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Davy DMX,
the Swans,
Gong,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chris & Cosey,
Basic Channel,
Interpol,
Niagra,
The Music Machine,
The Skatalites,
ABBA,
Circle Jerks,
Oneida,
ABC,
Vainqueur,
Essential Logic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Susan Cadogan,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.