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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Derrick Morgan to the grunge 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scan 7,
Jeru the Damaja,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stiv Bators,
New York Dolls,
Mo-Dettes,
Basic Channel,
Animal Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
U.S. Maple,
Minutemen,
The Pop Group,
X-Ray Spex,
Television,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Grass Roots,
Arab on Radar,
Juan Atkins,
JFA,
Jimmy McGriff,
Country Teasers,
The Durutti Column,
Goldenarms,
Stereo Dub,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fugazi,
Scrapy,
Wally Richardson,
Gichy Dan,
T. Rex,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
Pussy Galore,
The Offenders,
Robert Wyatt,
Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Tom Boy,
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Niagra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maurizio,
Harmonia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispian St. Peters,
Qualms,
Bobby Byrd,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
Brick,
Underground Resistance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
These Immortal Souls,
One Last Wish,
Toni Rubio,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.