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 Uzbekistan and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ice-T to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Soft Cell,
The Busters,
Neu!,
Oneida,
Ossler,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stereo Dub,
The J.B.'s,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
New Age Steppers,
Country Teasers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
This Heat,
X-102,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David Axelrod,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Robert Wyatt,
Echospace,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T.S.O.L.,
Altered Images,
The Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
cv313,
The Pretty Things,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Trojans,
Minor Threat,
E-Dancer,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
ABC,
Schoolly D,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy,
Japan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Reagan Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Hood,
The Last Poets,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
Wire,
John Cale,
Joy Division,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.