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 Guinea-Bissau 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Popol Vuh to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Cecil Taylor,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Tremeloes,
kango's stein massive,
Letta Mbulu,
Yazoo,
Altered Images,
Groovy Waters,
The Sound,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
Swell Maps,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minor Threat,
Spandau Ballet,
Heaven 17,
Faust,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jandek,
Nirvana,
Das Ding,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
Brass Construction,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
Rod Modell,
Bill Wells,
Harmonia,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pierre Henry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bob Dylan,
48th St. Collective,
The Happenings,
The Remains,
Joy Division,
Magazine,
Icehouse,
the Sonics,
Nico,
Main Source,
The Last Poets,
Niagra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donald Byrd,
Swans,
X-101,
Magma,
The Gladiators,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.