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 Albania and from London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare 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 Heaven 17 to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
The Names,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Velvet Underground,
Das Ding,
Ultravox,
Absolute Body Control,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Icehouse,
Sam Rivers,
Little Man,
Kerri Chandler,
Index,
Pierre Henry,
The New Christs,
The Cramps,
Sparks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faraquet,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Scion,
Eden Ahbez,
Excepter,
Minutemen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare,
Reagan Youth,
Cal Tjader,
David McCallum,
One Last Wish,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
Deadbeat,
Sun City Girls,
Lakeside,
Blossom Toes,
John Lydon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
U.S. Maple,
This Heat,
T.S.O.L.,
Tubeway Army,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
Bauhaus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Birthday Party,
Au Pairs,
KRS-One,
Vainqueur,
Rites of Spring,
The United States of America,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.