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 Bhutan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Gabor Szabo,
Freddie Wadling,
The Victims,
Public Enemy,
Reuben Wilson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fela Kuti,
Dawn Penn,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
Thompson Twins,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Yazoo,
Whodini,
Aloha Tigers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lungfish,
Jeru the Damaja,
MDC,
Rod Modell,
Oneida,
a-ha,
Wally Richardson,
Alton Ellis,
Ohio Players,
The Dirtbombs,
Intrusion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scan 7,
Marcia Griffiths,
Albert Ayler,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Lyres,
Harmonia,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lakeside,
The Human League,
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Jandek,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Real Kids,
Bob Dylan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Derrick Morgan,
June of 44,
Cymande,
Flamin' Groovies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sight & Sound,
Ponytail,
Blancmange,
The Associates,
Bill Wells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.