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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Swans to the techno 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
The Gap Band,
D'Angelo,
Wings,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
Delta 5,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Reuben Wilson,
Sister Nancy,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
Sex Pistols,
Thee Headcoats,
Stiv Bators,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Idris Muhammad,
Monks,
Swell Maps,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fuzztones,
Sixth Finger,
Donald Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
Essential Logic,
The Birthday Party,
John Lydon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Alarm Clocks,
JFA,
Neil Young,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Hill,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalo Schifrin,
Massinfluence,
Scott Walker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tears for Fears,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
The Doobie Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Shoche,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.