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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 The Offenders to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Howard Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultravox,
The Pretty Things,
Sällskapet,
AZ,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Terry,
Vainqueur,
Ludus,
Pantaleimon,
Sight & Sound,
The Skatalites,
Flipper,
Urselle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mars,
Hashim,
The Cure,
Danielle Patucci,
Whodini,
Ice-T,
Pole,
Graham Central Station,
Unrelated Segments,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Durutti Column,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra,
Pylon,
Youth Brigade,
Tres Demented,
The Leaves,
Malaria!,
The Smiths,
Wire,
Bobby Sherman,
Q and Not U,
Brass Construction,
the Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ossler,
Maurizio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blackbyrds,
The Monks,
The Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Terry Callier,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.