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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Inner City to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Organ,
Johnny Clarke,
The Walker Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dawn Penn,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat,
Connie Case,
The Standells,
Yellowson,
Slave,
Warsaw,
The Smiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
La Düsseldorf,
Moss Icon,
The Grass Roots,
Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Ohio Players,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
Nirvana,
Lucky Dragons,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Patti Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erykah Badu,
LL Cool J,
The Tremeloes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Guru Guru,
Avey Tare,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Birthday Party,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonic Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
Monolake,
Chris & Cosey,
Skaos,
Qualms,
The Five Americans,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fugazi,
Amazonics,
Jacob Miller,
June Days,
Funky Four + One,
The Litter,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.