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 the UAE and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
Funky Four + One,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Pus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cluster,
Cecil Taylor,
Grauzone,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tres Demented,
Danielle Patucci,
The Gladiators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anakelly,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Charles Mingus,
Hashim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tears for Fears,
Aural Exciters,
E-Dancer,
The Invisible,
The Shadows of Knight,
Duran Duran,
Deepchord,
Eric Dolphy,
Darondo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Silicon Teens,
Alphaville,
Roxette,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Junior Murvin,
Main Source,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Sheep,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monks,
The Residents,
Funkadelic,
The Offenders,
The Slackers,
Monks,
The Move,
Au Pairs,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.