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 Ireland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 Arab on Radar to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Glenn Branca,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Standells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Don Cherry,
Jerry's Kids,
Dark Day,
Roxy Music,
Nirvana,
Mission of Burma,
The Techniques,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Erykah Badu,
Grauzone,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joe Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fire Engines,
The Searchers,
Black Pus,
David McCallum,
Dave Gahan,
Lindisfarne,
Fear,
Lightning Bolt,
Dennis Brown,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David Bowie,
Make Up,
The Smoke,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Barracudas,
The Offenders,
Laurel Aitken,
Au Pairs,
CMW,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Halsall,
the Slits,
Liliput,
Swans,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
Jesper Dahlback,
Livin' Joy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mummies,
Marmalade,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.