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 Djibouti and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Groovy Waters to the grime 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
The Durutti Column,
Cal Tjader,
Stetsasonic,
John Holt,
Basic Channel,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gories,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alphaville,
Quantec,
John Cale,
K-Klass,
Heaven 17,
Sonny Sharrock,
Youth Brigade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The United States of America,
Susan Cadogan,
Bootsy Collins,
The Last Poets,
Fear,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
The Young Rascals,
Barry Ungar,
the Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Half Japanese,
Silicon Teens,
Monks,
the Germs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Searchers,
Aural Exciters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arcadia,
Index,
Los Fastidios,
Slave,
Cheater Slicks,
Loose Ends,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radio Birdman,
Moebius,
Delta 5,
The Standells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
Barrington Levy,
Sugar Minott,
The Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.