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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Lindisfarne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
The Selecter,
Popol Vuh,
The Gap Band,
Pantaleimon,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dead C,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agitation Free,
Half Japanese,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Panda Bear,
Wolf Eyes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maurizio,
Warsaw,
Harry Pussy,
Television Personalities,
Zero Boys,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Wyatt,
Freddie Wadling,
Dual Sessions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alton Ellis,
Model 500,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barrington Levy,
Procol Harum,
the Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Arcadia,
Hot Snakes,
Soft Cell,
Sarah Menescal,
The Count Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yusef Lateef,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Mantronix,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moss Icon,
Sonic Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Surgeon,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.