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 Israel and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 T.S.O.L. to the grunge 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Urselle,
The Monochrome Set,
Wire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chris Corsano,
This Heat,
Althea and Donna,
Byron Stingily,
Max Romeo,
Das Ding,
Groovy Waters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
Michelle Simonal,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Connie Case,
Flipper,
Chrome,
Excepter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
David Axelrod,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moby Grape,
The Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
The Buckinghams,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
Panda Bear,
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Todd Terry,
Bush Tetras,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Young Rascals,
Masters at Work,
Malaria!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül II,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television Personalities,
The Durutti Column,
Magazine,
World's Most,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Hot Snakes,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.