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 Maldives and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
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 spring reverb 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 Glenn Branca to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
JFA,
Visage,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Moebius,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Moon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rod Modell,
Subhumans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Heaven 17,
Soft Cell,
The Residents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang On A Can,
Boredoms,
The Dead C,
Symarip,
Circle Jerks,
Franke,
Barbara Tucker,
Lower 48,
Throbbing Gristle,
Inner City,
Freddie Wadling,
Mandrill,
Charles Mingus,
Cheater Slicks,
Ponytail,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Görl,
Metal Thangz,
Magazine,
Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Lindisfarne,
Average White Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Rosa Yemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Max Romeo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alton Ellis,
Soulsonic Force,
DJ Style,
The Divine Comedy,
Whodini,
Avey Tare,
Tom Boy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Last Poets,
Henry Cow,
DNA,
Josef K,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.