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 Paraguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Talk Talk to the rap 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Trojans,
Scion,
Prince Buster,
The Tremeloes,
Trumans Water,
Tears for Fears,
Mad Mike,
Robert Wyatt,
Wings,
Fugazi,
Laurel Aitken,
AZ,
Joensuu 1685,
Don Cherry,
Tomorrow,
Negative Approach,
Boredoms,
OOIOO,
Surgeon,
Jeff Mills,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
The Sonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Jandek,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Underground Resistance,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
Franke,
The Move,
Archie Shepp,
Man Eating Sloth,
PIL,
The Martian,
Motorama,
Warren Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Swans,
K-Klass,
Shoche,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maurizio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Anakelly,
The Star Department,
Barbara Tucker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eli Mardock,
the Germs,
Cheater Slicks,
Aswad,
The Young Rascals,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiohead,
The Associates,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Bronski Beat,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.