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 Grenada and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Magma to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
This Heat,
The Saints,
Davy DMX,
The Fugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
OOIOO,
Al Stewart,
Mark Hollis,
Sugar Minott,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warsaw,
Swans,
The Searchers,
The Modern Lovers,
Average White Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Frankie Knuckles,
World's Most,
Sparks,
Rhythm & Sound,
AZ,
Oblivians,
Reuben Wilson,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
Danielle Patucci,
Donald Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Slits,
Colin Newman,
Robert Hood,
The Fall,
Freddie Wadling,
the Human League,
Duran Duran,
Deakin,
Alice Coltrane,
Scott Walker,
Can,
Nils Olav,
Von Mondo,
Television Personalities,
John Lydon,
The Count Five,
James White and The Blacks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Procol Harum,
Minutemen,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Section 25,
DJ Sneak,
Loose Ends,
Mandrill,
Niagra,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.