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 Qatar and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rap 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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Make Up,
Maurizio,
JFA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blancmange,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
Man Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dark Day,
Erykah Badu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Japan,
Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ponytail,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sister Nancy,
Pantytec,
Parry Music,
Jerry's Kids,
EPMD,
Colin Newman,
Yazoo,
Stereo Dub,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arthur Verocai,
Pulsallama,
Michelle Simonal,
Negative Approach,
Country Teasers,
Theoretical Girls,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
48th St. Collective,
Piero Umiliani,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Black Pus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Prince Buster,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Steve Hackett,
Talk Talk,
Dual Sessions,
Q65,
Silicon Teens,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronan,
Oblivians,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.