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 Guatemala and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Dead C,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scientists,
Outsiders,
Neu!,
Yazoo,
Smog,
Unrelated Segments,
Technova,
Schoolly D,
Minor Threat,
Mars,
Tears for Fears,
Aural Exciters,
The Invisible,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
Freddie Wadling,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
Index,
The Count Five,
Second Layer,
Soul II Soul,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flipper,
Roxette,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
JFA,
Neil Young,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eli Mardock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Patti Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Associates,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Section 25,
The Kinks,
Mark Hollis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grauzone,
Tres Demented,
The Sound,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
The Alarm Clocks,
Desert Stars,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.