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 Madagascar and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric Copeland to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Excepter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Oneida,
OOIOO,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Procol Harum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Letta Mbulu,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Enemy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Al Stewart,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultra Naté,
Peter & Gordon,
The Saints,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Fuzztones,
Fela Kuti,
Idris Muhammad,
CMW,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick Morgan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magma,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smiths,
Lyres,
Hot Snakes,
Sun City Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Gang Gang Dance,
Subhumans,
Index,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Josef K,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Searchers,
James White and The Blacks,
Neil Young,
Scrapy,
Trumans Water,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television Personalities,
Wings,
Adolescents,
Grauzone,
Roger Hodgson,
Eli Mardock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.