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 Comoros and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Idris Muhammad,
Circle Jerks,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Searchers,
Nirvana,
Glenn Branca,
Minnie Riperton,
OOIOO,
Funkadelic,
These Immortal Souls,
Archie Shepp,
T. Rex,
Grauzone,
Fela Kuti,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mr. Review,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rites of Spring,
the Bar-Kays,
Q65,
Aaron Thompson,
The Selecter,
Stiv Bators,
Easy Going,
Symarip,
Can,
Smog,
Popol Vuh,
The Birthday Party,
Thee Headcoats,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Matthew Bourne,
Erasure,
Desert Stars,
Fluxion,
Robert Hood,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Invisible,
kango's stein massive,
Negative Approach,
H. Thieme,
Minny Pops,
Visage,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Barracudas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
Soul II Soul,
AZ,
Motorama,
The Residents,
Das Ding,
Parry Music,
Black Moon,
The Neon Judgement,
Ten City,
The Kinks,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.