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 Dominican Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Idris Muhammad to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Intrusion,
Tropical Tobacco,
In Retrospect,
The Offenders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül,
Massinfluence,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Letta Mbulu,
Laurel Aitken,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Wake,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
The Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Reagan Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang On A Can,
Skriet,
Moebius,
Sarah Menescal,
Heaven 17,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cramps,
Peter & Gordon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tubeway Army,
Pagans,
Fat Boys,
the Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Minor Threat,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav,
Patti Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Arab on Radar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
K-Klass,
Deadbeat,
Chrome,
Rakim,
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.