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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Amon Düül to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Japan,
The Offenders,
Brass Construction,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
Fluxion,
Ken Boothe,
Marine Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Guru Guru,
Flash Fearless,
The Index,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Mills,
Lee Hazlewood,
Panda Bear,
Wally Richardson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
Rotary Connection,
Altered Images,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Chris Corsano,
Pagans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
EPMD,
Anakelly,
Kool Moe Dee,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Television,
Little Man,
Scratch Acid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
Bad Manners,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Grass Roots,
Max Romeo,
Connie Case,
Shoche,
Eurythmics,
Public Enemy,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Graham Central Station,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.