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 Macedonia and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Detroit Cobras,
Country Teasers,
Bill Near,
Sixth Finger,
Susan Cadogan,
Goldenarms,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Move,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visage,
One Last Wish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Nirvana,
Isaac Hayes,
Ituana,
Fat Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
The Grass Roots,
Iggy Pop,
B.T. Express,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tommy Roe,
Niagra,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Doors,
Sandy B,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cure,
a-ha,
Boredoms,
The Real Kids,
Warren Ellis,
Soulsonic Force,
Lungfish,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grandmaster Flash,
Slave,
Radiohead,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Grauzone,
Outsiders,
Yellowson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deakin,
the Sonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Neil Young,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
Fear,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.