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 Nepal and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 KRS-One to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Drive Like Jehu,
Severed Heads,
The Music Machine,
Television Personalities,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Sight & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
OOIOO,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
Gichy Dan,
Ludus,
Qualms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lalann,
Deepchord,
Hasil Adkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Soft Machine,
Ten City,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sparks,
Patti Smith,
Minor Threat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Graham Central Station,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Flag,
Junior Murvin,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Japan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faust,
June Days,
Juan Atkins,
X-101,
Pierre Henry,
Sandy B,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rod Modell,
Man Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Sam Rivers,
Ituana,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jimmy McGriff,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minutemen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Residents,
48th St. Collective,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.