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 Ecuador and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rock 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Public Enemy,
the Association,
Desert Stars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
D'Angelo,
X-101,
B.T. Express,
The Cowsills,
Average White Band,
Section 25,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stereo Dub,
Faust,
Howard Jones,
Wire,
Josef K,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fortunes,
Urselle,
Pussy Galore,
Suicide,
The Searchers,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Ludus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
The Modern Lovers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Arcadia,
Smog,
Royal Trux,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Move,
Soft Cell,
Funkadelic,
a-ha,
Cecil Taylor,
Sam Rivers,
World's Most,
the Soft Cell,
Hoover,
L. Decosne,
Maurizio,
Alton Ellis,
the Germs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
In Retrospect,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sixth Finger,
Basic Channel,
the Bar-Kays,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.