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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ronnie Foster,
Franke,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
The Wake,
Severed Heads,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Germs,
The Names,
New Age Steppers,
the Normal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stetsasonic,
Scrapy,
Flipper,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aloha Tigers,
F. McDonald,
Derrick May,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
Sonic Youth,
One Last Wish,
kango's stein massive,
E-Dancer,
Babytalk,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dave Clark Five,
David Bowie,
Darondo,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul Sonic Force,
Con Funk Shun,
John Cale,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lungfish,
Crash Course in Science,
Gregory Isaacs,
Angry Samoans,
The Standells,
Suburban Knight,
Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Talk Talk,
Slave,
Connie Case,
Dawn Penn,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lower 48,
Moby Grape,
Iggy Pop,
Pylon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Procol Harum,
JFA,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.